An Ordinary Girl: A Stargate SG1 Romance
by Diane J M Johnson
Summary: After being held captive for 5 days on an alien world, the members of SG-1 are joined by a woman claiming to be from Topeka. Things take an interesting turn when this "ordinary girl" from Kansas ends up developing some extraordinary powers. . .
1. Chapter 1

**AN ORDINARY GIRL: A STORY IN THREE PARTS**

**PART 1: ADVENTURES ON PLANET MAX (a.k.a., PX5 452)**

_**(Author's note: This story is derived from a dream I had during the summer of 2008 and takes place in that calendar year.)**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Stargate SG-1 **_**or anything connected to it. It belongs to its respective owners and creators. Didina Steadman, her friends and family and the Chak-tuk belong to me. Please do not use them without permission.**_

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTIONS

Thirty-three-year-old Didina Steadman—clad in white denim jeans, a royal blue V-neck shirt, and dark brown leather sandals, with a bracelet watch of polished silver chrome and brass on her left wrist and a white "scrunchy" in her hair—removed her keys from her purse and prepared to unlock her car door. Just as the 5′ 2½″ woman with pale blue eyes and yellow-blond hair was about to insert the key into the lock, she felt a sharp prick on the tip of her thumb. "Ow!" she exclaimed. "What the . . .?" A small bead of blood appeared. As humans are apt to do when pricked, she raised the injured area to her mouth. At that moment, everything went dark. . . .

"Hey guys," a soft, pleasant, male voice was saying from what seemed to be a few feet away, "it looks like she's coming to."

Another male voice said, "Carter . . ."

As Didina Steadman slowly opened her eyes, she saw a tall, attractive blonde woman with hazel eyes and a bright smile bending down and looking at her. "Hi. I'm Colonel Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force. You can call me 'Sam.' And you are?"

"Didina Steadman," she replied, sitting up slowly, "but everyone calls me 'Didi' or 'Dee.'"

"How're you feeling?" Sam asked her.

"Okay, I guess—just a little lightheaded, maybe." Didi surveyed the sparsely furnished room . . . "sparsely furnished" being a polite way of saying that there was a sink or wash basin of some kind on the wall directly across from the door, and something that resembled a toilet in the corner nearest the sink. The floor was pure white and consisted entirely of material similar to that used in the making of certain wrestling or gymnastics mats. "What is this place and how did I get here?"

Sam said, "Basically, this is a prison cell. As to how you got here . . . we were kind of hoping _you_ could tell _us._ What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was putting my key into the door to unlock my car," said Didi, "and I pricked my thumb—which is really weird, because I have no idea what I pricked it on. Anyway, I was just about to stick my thumb in my mouth to suck off the blood, when, suddenly, everything went . . . black."

"You mean, you passed out?" Sam asked.

Didi shook her head, then grabbed it and groaned. "(Oh! I guess I'm a bit more lightheaded than I thought.) No. I've passed out before and it wasn't like that," she said in answer to Sam's query.

"Hm." Sam looked contemplative. "That _is_ strange. . . . I wonder . . ."

"Well, while you're wondering, Samantha, I'm going to continue the introductions," said another woman, approaching Didi. "Hi, I'm Vala Mal Doran." The woman named Vala had dark hair, set in pigtails, with a wide streak of white in front that grew out of her right-side part; brown eyes; a mole on her left upper cheekbone; pointed facial features; and what sounded to Didi like a British accent. "The big guy," she said (indicating a tall, muscular black man who had a strange symbol of some kind that appeared to be branded into his forehead), "is Teal'c. He's a Jaffa."

"Hi," said Didi softly, trying to smile. Teal'c, who appeared to have a few days' growth of beard, bowed his head slightly, saying nothing.

The other two men in the room then drew near. One of them approached Didi, wrapped his hand firmly around her lower arm and said, "Here, take hold of my arm." Didi anchored her hand around the man's arm, as instructed, and he helped her to her feet. Col. Carter steadied her until she got her balance. Once Didi was fully upright, the man who had helped her up introduced himself as "Colonel Cameron Mitchell, United States Air Force."

Col. Mitchell had light brown hair, deep-set blue eyes, a somewhat pointed chin, and an engaging smile that included a pair of barely-there dimples. He, too, was badly in need of a shave.

He had a voice that, in a woman, would have been called "sultry." It was not a voice that would lend itself well to singing, but when he spoke to Didi, he got her full attention. "Are you all right?" he asked. His eyes gazed into Didi's searchingly. What he might be looking for in her eyes, she couldn't begin to fathom.

Didi nodded, then grabbed her head again, almost swaying on her feet.

"Guess not," Col. Mitchell commented, clutching her arm and steadying her. "Take it easy. You've been unconscious ever since they brought you here, and that was . . .what—?" he queried, looking at his colleagues, "—two, three hours ago?"

"It has been approximately two hours and forty-seven minutes since Gor-lak brought Ms. Steadman here," Teal'c said.

Col. Mitchell shrugged. "Like I said, two, three hours ago. . . . So, where were you when you lost consciousness?"

"The parking lot of the post office. I had just finished filling the postage meter for my boss."

"She's definitely from Earth, then," said the other man, who was standing close by. He appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties, with dark brown hair; blue eyes that were somewhat hidden behind a pair of wire-framed glasses; and a well-proportioned oval face that, like Col. Mitchell's and Teal'c's, needed a shave. "Hi," he said, smiling a bit obscurely as he approached her. "I'm Daniel Jackson . . . uh, 'Daniel' to you."

"Hi," Didi said again.

In a matter of minutes she had met five new people, all of whom were wearing identical outfits that appeared to be some sort of military garb, although only Samantha Carter and Cameron Mitchell had admitted to any rank. Nonetheless, all five had patches on their shoulders that seemed to be some kind of unit insignia.

"Daniel," she queried, "what did you mean when you said that I'm definitely from Earth? Where else would I be from? What is this place? Colonel Carter said it's a prison cell, but . . . where? And who _are_ you guys?"

"That's kind of hard to explain," answered Daniel.

"We're space travelers," said Vala Mal Doran. "We came—"

"We came to this planet," Col. Mitchell interrupted, "—which has been designated P_X5 452_, but which I call _'Max'_—as peaceful explorers but were taken captive by the Chak-tuk; they're the native inhabitants of this world and they are_**not**__ . . . pleasant . . . people_."

"You mean . . . this is an alien world?" Didi asked incredulously.

"Afraid so," said Col. Mitchell.

"But, how is that possible?" Didi asked.

"Just take a look around you," said Col. Mitchell, pointing at the strange-looking toilet-like structure. "Have you ever seen anything like _that _before?"

Didi shook her head—more slowly this time—and sank back onto the floor. "No, I haven't," she said disheartenedly. "I guess I have no choice but to believe you." She looked back up at Col. Mitchell. "So, how long have _you_ been here? I ask because . . . you guys look awful. And you _smell_—especially you, Colonel Mitchell. Sorry. No offense . . . ."

"None taken," Colonel Mitchell replied, backing away from Didi to avoid offending her olfactory glands any further. "We've been here for about five days, give or take a few hours. Like you, we were unconscious part of the time, so we're not entirely sure. I apologize for my awful smell, but . . . although the others were given the opportunity to shower—albeit a few days ago—I haven't had that privilege yet, and I'm afraid it's completely out of my control."

"Five days, with nothing but a padded floor, a sink and a . . . really weird-looking toilet."

"We've been in worse," Colonel Mitchell stated. "As weird-looking as it is, at least we _have_ a toilet."

"Indeed," interjected Teal'c. "Wooden cages and cold stone dungeons, with nothing but straw for bedding, are far worse accommodations than this room."

"That's not really the point, though, is it guys?" Daniel asked. "This is all new to Ms. Steadman. We do this sort of thing all the time—for a living, no less. She doesn't. Let's not lose sight of that fact. Instead, let's try to be a little bit more sympathetic and understanding, shall we?"

"I'm sorry if I sounded callous," apologized Col. Mitchell. "I didn't mean to be."

Teal'c bowed slightly. "My apologies also, Ms. Steadman, if I seemed . . . unsympathetic. It was not my intention."

Didi nodded wordlessly, her eyes accepting their apologies on her behalf.

"Look, Ms. Steadman—"

"Please, Colonel Mitchell," she said, "—call me 'Dee' or 'Didi.'"

"All right, and you can call me 'Cam.'" He was smiling slightly; Didi thought it was a _really nice_ smile. "As I was saying . . . Didi . . . I know this is a lot to take in, but . . . wherever you're from, you gotta understand that the Chak-tuk mean serious business. We haven't figured out exactly what that business is yet, but we're pretty sure we're not here to participate in their version of the Olympic Games."

"Oh, I don't know," said Daniel. "In some ways the events seem similar to—"

"Are you out of your mind, Jackson?" Cam asked. "They execute any losers who are still alive after their battle is over and give a female as a prize to the winners!—among the natives, anyway. I've never seen that happen at _any_ Olympic games _I've_ ever been to, and I don't recall reading that they did those things during _ancient_ times, either."

"Actually, evidence has come to light that might suggest that—"

"Now is not the time for a history lesson, Daniel," said Vala, taking him by the arm. She looked at him as though she were quite attached to him.

"No; right. I'm sorry." He looked at Cam. "You were saying?"

Addressing his comrades, Col. Mitchell stated, "I'm just saying that, if things don't go right in _my_ event, we could _all_ wind up getting skewered!"

He then looked directly at Didi and said, "Both of the other guys and each of the ladies have participated in an event together. Colonel Carter was paired with Teal'c on Saturday, and Vala was with Dr. Jackson on Sunday. We think the pairings had something to do with the bonds they have between them. Sam and Teal'c have known each other for a lot of years; they've saved each other's lives more often than any of us can remember. They care about and respect each other a great deal. Dr. Jackson and Vala have something of a history together, too, although not as long-standing as the one between Sam and Teal'c. Still, they've shared some . . . very interesting experiences that forged a bond of sorts between them."

Daniel spoke up and said, "Teal'c and I—each in turn—were put into one-on-one combatsituations against Chak-tuk warriors. Our respective female companions were seated on the floor of the arena with their hands tied behind their backs and additional bindings around their knees and ankles. If Teal'c and I had lost our fights, the ladies might very well have been given to our opponents as prizes. That's the way it works around here—among the natives, anyway, as Colonel Mitchell said."

Fear was evident on Didi's face and she gulped. "Is that why _I'm_ here? Am I supposed to go into this . . . _arena_ with one of you guys?" she asked.

"Very probably," said Col. Mitchell, "and I suspect it's going to be with me, since the other two guys have already had their turns."

"But, why _me_?"

"I think there're probably two reasons why they brought you here," said Cam. "The first is undoubtedly because there's no one left to go into the arena with me, and they're not going to take a chance on sending Sam or Vala in again."

"Why? What happened?" Didi queried.

"Generally," said Daniel Jackson, "male Chak-tuk warriors fight for their mates. Females are not allowed to _participate_ in the arena. Their sole purpose is to inspire the males to fight harder to win—an added incentive above that of merely staying alive. Problem is, we didn't know that going _into_ the arena. Sam has military training, and Vala . . . well . . . Vala has street smarts and a rather . . . _mercenary _background. They wanted to help."

Said Sam, "We didn't know until after both battles were over that what we'd done was forbidden. Vala and I are both fighters. We couldn't just sit there and watch our friends face life-threatening danger alone."

"How did you get out of your bonds?" Didi queried.

"We, uh, _cut _them out," said Daniel sheepishly, "because they begged us to. We were perfectly willing—and able—to fight the Chak-tuk warriors on our own. But the ladies insisted, so . . . we gave in and cut them loose. A bad mistake, as it turned out."

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "The Chak-tuk appeared to be extremely angry when the . . . 'events', as they call them, were over."

"Yes, and in spite of that," put in Daniel, "they've kept us alive . . . no doubt because they came to realize—after a certain amount of rumination—that we didn't know or understand the rules."

"Which brings us," said Col. Mitchell, "to the _second_ reason you were probably brought here: you're a regular girl—no military training or combat experience of any kind. You won't be begging me to cut you loose so you can help me fight." He looked down at Didi pleadingly. "You won't will you?"

Didi shook her head. "I couldn't fight if I wanted to. Like you said, I'm just a regular girl. I work in an optometrist's office in Topeka. I've never had any kind of combat or martial arts training . . . not even simple self-defense classes."

"Good!" said Cam. "Maybe I'll be able to . . . Wait a minute! Did you say . . .?"

"Yes, Cam, she did," Col. Carter confirmed. "She said 'Topeka.'"

Col. Mitchell's face lit up. "Small world!"

"You mean, you're from Topeka, too?" Didi asked, standing up again—this time without help.

"No, but I _am_ from Kansas—and not that far away from Topeka, either. I grew up in Auburn."

"Awesome! So . . . how'd you end up on an alien world?" Didi asked.

"It's a long story," said Cam, "and part of it's classified." He looked at his companions questioningly. While Didi was unconscious, the team had debated the issue of whether or not to tell Didi exactly who they were and how they had come to be on this planet—_if_ it turned out that she was from Earth. Daniel had pointed out that, if and when they were rescued, they'd be taking her with them. That being the case, she'd find out everything then, anyway, so they might as well tell her. They had also decided that conversing with her might help put her more at ease and keep her from going into hysterics. So far it was working.

"As I said," Daniel reminded Cam, "she's definitely from Earth. When we go, she goes."

"Okay," Cam said with a sigh. He then looked at Didi, his stance firm, his arms folded in front of him, his eyes steady and unflinching. "We came here through a device called a 'Stargate.' It's located underground, at Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado Springs."

"NORAD?"

Cam nodded. "Yeah, in the same complex."

"Not that it's relevant, but I have a cousin in Colorado Springs," said Didi. "He's an optometrist and is opening his own office there soon. He's asked me to come and work for him. I was planning to move at the end of the month." She shrugged. "A change of climate, a change of scenery, a change of . . . everything." She looked at the group. "Believe me," she said, "I _need_ a change."

"Everybody does at some point in their life," said Cam. "Maybe we can help you move in."

"Indeed," said Teal'c.

"Wow! That'd be great!" said Didi. "Now how does the—wha'd'ya call it?—Stargate?—work?"

Sam stepped up again and explained the technical side of the Stargate's operations, doing her best to put it into terms that Didi could understand. Everyone pitched in with information about the DHDs and the use of MALPs for reconnaissance.

"So, how did you end up getting captured? Didn't the MALP show you any hostile aliens?"

"As a matter of fact," Cam replied, "no, it didn't."

"We have since learned," put in Daniel, "that the Chak-tuk have some very advanced technology, which apparently enabled them to either deceive the MALP's sensors or to falsify the information it sent back through the 'gate. Either way, we didn't know until we got here that there were any aliens _at all_ on this planet, never mind _hostile_ ones. And I'm not entirely sure their intentions _are_ hostile: after all, they haven't killed us out of hand."

"No, they're just toying with us," Cam said in disgruntlement, "and that's worse."

"So, what do these 'Chak-tuk' look like?" Didi wanted to know.

"They look like a cross between the _Predator _alien and an Unas," said Vala, "except that their hair is white and wispy . . . like that of a Wraith—but not as long."

"I've seen _Predator. _But what's an Unas?—and a _wraith_?—like in . . . folklore?"

"The Unas . . . yes," said Daniel, who knew one particular Unas quite well. "They're a primitive species—tough and scaly . . . reptilian . . . but they're learning and developing at an amazing rate."

"The Wraith are creatures in the Pegasus galaxy who suck the life out of people with their hands," said Sam. "It's a horrible way to die. But, yes, most of them have long, white wispy hair, like Vala said."

"They sound as awful as the ones in folklore," said Didi. "I wouldn't want to meet one. So, tell me more about the Chak-tuk," she requested, looking at all five faces in turn.

Col. Mitchell sighed and looked at Daniel. "Jackson . . . ." he said. Then, looking at Didi, he explained, "Dr. Jackson is our linguistic and cultural expert—among other things."

"What are you a doctor of?" Didi asked Daniel.

"Anthropology, archaeology and philology—uh, languages . . . mostly written," Daniel replied.

"At last count he was up to twenty-seven different languages," said Sam, with evident pride in her colleague's accomplishments, "many of them of alien origin."

"Right now I'm working on twenty-eight."

"He's trying to learn Chak-tuk," Col. Carter commented.

"I asked for a book on Chak-tuk history, which Gor-lak—our 'keeper'—loaned to me, and I've beenlearning some really fascinating things. For instance, the word 'Chak-tuk' literally translates into 'God's chosen children.' The name they've given the planet is '_Com_-chak-tuk'—_home_ of God's chosen children."

"So, why do they think they're God's chosen children?" Didi queried.

"I'll bet it has something to do with the Power they possess," said Cam.

"Power?"

"Yeah," said Daniel. "Only the ones known as elders—such as Gor-lak—seem to possess the Power. At first we thought that the rods they carry were the _source_ of the Power, but from what I've been reading recently, the Power is inherent in the _brains_ of the elders. The rods are merely a conduit through which they direct it."

Daniel was about to expound further on the subject of the Power of the Chak-tuk, but was interrupted by the opening of the ponderously heavy door of the cell. The alien face that appeared in the doorway elicited a cry of dismay and terror from Didi. Even though she had seen _Predator_, she was not completely prepared for the absolute hideousness of the visage that stood looking down at her. (The alien was quite tall—even exceeding Teal'c by a couple of inches.) Didi began to shake with fear, so Cam wrapped his arms around her from behind and hushed her. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered. "Just do what Gor-lak tells you to do and everything'll be okay."

Didi nodded and leaned heavily against Cam, afraid of collapsing onto the floor if she didn't.

The Chak-tuk elder was clad in a floor-length, long-sleeved, brace-necked robe that was made of a finely-woven white material so shiny it almost sparkled. The mouth of the creature did, indeed, resemble that of the _Predator_ alien; and its skin appeared to be, as Daniel had said, tough and scaly. It was a greenish-brown in hue. The hair was, as Vala had stated, white and wispy . . . and about shoulder length.

In his clawed right "hand" the Chak-tuk held a rod—the very kind Daniel had just mentioned—which was made of some sort of burnished silvery metal. It appeared to be close to five feet long, about the thickness of a majorette's baton, and had a bulbous tip that resembled the bulbs on the larger type of outdoor Christmas lights. The bulb was whitish in color and completely opaque.

The voice of the Chak-tuk could only be described as guttural, which didn't surprise Didi one bit. While he was speaking, the bulb at the end of the rod glowed, and it appeared that his words were being translated into English and projected by the rod. "I have come to see how Miss Steadman is faring," the creature said. "She is awake, I see. That is good. How are you feeling, Miss Steadman?"

There was a lump the size of a plum in Didi's throat—which was severely dry—and her heart felt as though it was about to pound its way out of her chest. She stammered out an answer, nonetheless.

"I-I-I'm okay, I guess." She tried to swallow, but the dryness prevented it.

"Are Colonel Mitchell and his companions treating you well?"

She nodded. "Y-yes. They're really nice."

"Good. I am glad to hear it. Now, Colonel Mitchell, you and Miss Steadman will come," the rod enunciated, while the Chak-tuk elder simultaneously motioned for Cam and Didi to accompany him. "It looks like we're up, Didi," Cam whispered in her ear. "Just remember: sit tight—or stand still, as the case may be—and let me handle everything."

She nodded. "Yes, Cam; whatever you say."

Didi's knees were shaking so badly from trepidation she could hardly stand, never mind walk.

Nonetheless, Cam, of necessity, unwound his arms from around her and took her by the hand. "Okay, Gor-lak; let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2: GETTING ACQUAINTED

As two armed guards—clad in some sort of thick, leather-like armor—closed and relocked the cell door, Cam and Didi fell into step behind the one named Gor-lak, who didn't seem to think it necessary to look back and make certain they were still there. The SG-1 team members had learned the first time they'd made this walk that it was fruitless to try to attack or escape. As Daniel had said, the rod held by Gor-lak and the other elders was a conduit of their Power. That Power could be used as a formidable weapon. It could render a human being helpless without the person even being touched.

Except for being smaller in size, Cam considered it to be comparable to the staffs used by the Priors of the Ori. Unlike the Chak-tuk—whose Power was innate—the Priors obtained their power from the Ori. They could do nothing on their own. Still, the staffs of the Priors, like the rods of the Chak-tuk elders, were conduits and nothing more.

Much to Cam's surprise, Gor-lak took them only two doors down and across the hall from their previous location. When Gor-lak stopped in front of the target door, Cam released Didi's hand and said, "What the—? We're only moving _down the hall_? I thought you were taking us to the arena already."

As soon as the rod finished translating Cam's words, Gor-lak replied, "No, Colonel Mitchell, not yet. You and Miss Steadman will spend one full rotation of the planet together in this room."

_**(In order to prevent the narrative concerning the dialogue between the humans and Gor-lak from bogging down, the English translations of everything said will be given without further mention of the rod.)**_

"Why?" Cam asked as Gor-lak unlocked the door to their new quarters.

"You and your companions know one another well. Miss Steadman is new. Before we put you into the arena with her, we want you to get a little better acquainted."

"And you think _one day_ is gonna be enough for that?" Cam asked.

"Is there some reason that you do not?"

"You've got to be kidding! I mean, come on! Only _one_ _day_ . . . for two people who are about to face danger together . . .?"

"How much time would _you_ consider sufficient?"

"Oh, I don't know . . . a week maybe?"

"The committee would not allow a postponement of your event for that long a period. However, I might be able to persuade them to allow you three days. . . ."

"Well, that's a little better, anyway. So, we'll be going into the arena three days from now?"

"If the committee agrees, yes."

"Is there any chance that, during those three days, we could go for a walk outside, or something?"

"What you humans call your 'sense of humor' still eludes me, Colonel."

"I wasn't joking." He looked at the Chak-tuk earnestly. "Humans can only stand to be confined for so long before they go a little 'stir crazy.' We need to go outside once in a while and get some fresh air . . . a little sunshine."

"That is quite out of the question, although I may be willing to add a few amenities to the room for Miss Steadman's comfort—amenities from which you, too, Colonel, may benefit."

"Aw, gee, Gorlie, you're all heart."

The Chak-tuk forcefully backhanded Cam across the face, knocking him to the floor. "You will _cease_ calling me by that ridiculous nickname!"

Cam put his fingers up to the corner of his mouth, which was bleeding, looked at the blood on the tips of his fingers and said, "Whatever you say, Gor-lak."

Gor-lak bowed slightly in acknowledgement of Cam's reply and then said, "Get to your feet and step into the room . . . NOW!"

Didi took his arm and helped him to his feet as best she could; then they entered their new quarters together. The floor appeared to be made of the same mat material as that found in the other room, but it was _not_ the first thing they noticed. They took one look at the furnishings and alternately blanched and blushed. Cam turned back to face the Chak-tuk and asked, "What is this, Gor-lak?"

"Is there a problem?"

"Yeah. The bed."

"Is it not the proper size bed for two people?"

The bed in question—the head of which was set in the center of the right-hand wall—was a king-size. However . . .

"That's not the point," stated Cam. "Generally speaking, two people only share a bed like that if they're siblings, if they're married, or if they both really, really _want_ to. Miss Steadman's having a hard enough time adjusting to the fact that this is an alien planet . . . on top of which, the two of us just met. I don't think she's ready to share a bed with me yet—of _any _size."

"You have strong moral and ethical morés, Miss Steadman?" Gor-lak asked.

Didi nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Would you prefer two smaller beds?"

Didi nodded again, and this time Cam said, "That'd be good for a start, yeah. And a sink and toilet—like we had in the other room; maybe some kind of . . . screen or shield Miss Steadman could stand behind when she's changing clothes . . . that is, if she _gets_ a change of clothes. . . ."

"Clean clothes and sleepwear have been provided for both of you." He pointed toward a white, four-drawer dresser that stood in the right-hand corner at the back of the room. "You will find them in there: Miss Steadman's clothes are in the two top drawers; Colonel Mitchell's in the bottom two."

Didi, anxious to see what Gor-lak had provided for her, climbed over the bed, made her way to the dresser, and opened the top drawer. It contained a T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. The second drawer held a pair of pajamas and a full set of underwear. All of the items were neatly folded. "These . . . these are my _own_ clothes, from my _own _closet and dresser!" she exclaimed.

Gor-lak bowed his head in acknowledgement of Didi's comment. "Yes. It is the only way we can supply you with such things. We cannot create something out of nothing, and the materials are unfamiliar to us. It is easier—although more costly power-wise—to bring items from your respective homes."

"So, how did you know what to look for?" Cam asked.

"When you were first brought here, we probed your minds. Your memories were . . . recorded, in a sense, with a device similar to one you and your companions encountered previously. I believe you know the item of which I speak . . . ."

"Yeah, I know it all too well," said Cam. He then made his way toward the dresser.

Didi moved aside while Cam opened the third drawer and found a T-shirt and jeans. In the bottom drawer he found pajamas, socks and clean underwear. "Where'd you get the pajamas?" he inquired. "I know you didn't get 'em from my apartment, 'cause I don't usually _wear_ pajamas."

"I noticed that in your memory archives. I did see, however, that your paternal parent wears such things. I therefore procured some similar to his but in a smaller size than he wears.

"As for your other request: in the _left-hand _corner at the back of the room is a door. It previously opened onto a storage closet. Look and see what is behind it now."

Cam went to the designated door and opened it. Taking a peek inside, he said, "Cool! A bathroom! And the tub looks like it's made out of marble!"

"A marble tub?" Didi asked in wonder. "Wow!"

"Come take a look."

Didi looked. "If this used to be a storage closet, how'd you do the plumbing?" she asked Gor-lak, turning to look at him.

"The storage room," said Gor-lak, "already had a sink for the use of laborers. I transmuted some of the metal from the shelves to create more pipes for the bathtub, the shower and the toilet. Melding the new pipes into the existing system was not difficult. You will have what you humans refer to as 'hot and cold running water.'"

"You did good, Gor-lak," Cam said, looking at the Chak-tuk with sincerity. "We're grateful."

"Yes, we are," said Didi, who, by now, was getting used to the ugly visage of the alien.

"I am glad that you are . . . _appreciative_," said Gor-lak, "but I must still see to the change of beds. I will return in due course. You may begin conversing."

"Gee, thanks." Cam gave Didi a sardonic look. "See you later, Gor-lak," he added as the Chak-tuk left the room and locked the door behind him.

Cam then turned to face his new roommate, put his hands on his hips and said, "Sorry about this whole situation, Didi. I really wasn't expecting anything like this to happen."

"There's no need to apologize, Cam. None of this is your fault."

"Still, I can't help wishing that there was something I could do to remedy the situation."

Didi shrugged. "Since there isn't, we just have to make the best of the situation."

Cam took his hands from his hips and said, "And right now I'm gonna try to do _my_ part to make it better: thankfully, there's something resembling a towel in the bathroom, so I'm gonna go take a shower. I don't want you to have to put up with my malodorous condition any longer. I just wish we had a bar of soap. When Gor-lak comes back, I'm going to ask him for some—along with a few other things."

"Well," said Didi, "even without soap, I'm sure you'll come out smelling a whole lot better than you do now—especially if you put on clean clothes. There's no telling how long it'll be before Gor-lak comes back. And even if you _do_ ask him, there's no guarantee he'll be willing to bring us soap or anything else we may ask for."

"That's just it. I don't wanna have to wait to find out."

"Then go. I'll be fine. _Take as long as you need_."

Cam smiled. "I really _do_ smell bad, don't I?" He shook his head while removing his blue jeans and clean underwear from the dresser. "It's been a while since I've gone this long without at _least_ having a _sponge bath_. . . ." He left that comment hanging in the air and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Once he was gone, Didi decided to sit down. The bed was not overly high, for which the short-legged woman was grateful. Neither the box springs nor the mattress was more than four inches thick, and the bed frame—which seemed to be made of segmented, unadorned steel—was no more than six inches off the ground. A set of plain white linen sheets covered the mattress, and two king-size pillows with white pillowcases sat at the head of the bed.

Didi's thoughts were awhirl with everything that had happened to her and everything that she had learned since she'd first awakened in the other room. The members of SG-1 were an interesting group of people: Sam and Cam were both Air Force officers, and while Cam had been a skilled pilot before joining the Stargate program, Sam had a degree in quantum physics. Daniel held three doctorates that undoubtedly made him a valuable member of this elite interplanetary exploration team. Didi wasn't sure about Teal'c and Vala yet. She had a feeling they weren't from Earth, but they were human enough to keep her from feeling uncomfortable around them. She was grateful to all of them for helping her to stay sane and calm while she was getting used to the idea of being on an alien world.

She tried to imagine what the Stargate, the MALP and the DHD looked like. She then tried to imagine what it would be like to travel through the Stargate to one alien world after another, never knowing when you might run into hostile aliens or other types of dangerous life forms.

Daniel had said that they "do this for a living." Therefore, the rewards must, in some way, far outweigh the dangers of traveling through the Stargate on a regular basis the way they did.

The bathroom door opened and Cam exited, wearing his clean jeans and his undershirt. He was drying his hair with the towel.

"Well, I did the best I could," he said, "but I'm not as sweet-smelling as I'd like to be. And I'm still a hairy beast."

Didi smiled and said, "You don't smell any worse right now than I do after a full Saturday of doing household chores."

"That's good to know." Cam took the towel back to the bathroom and hung it from the shower curtain rod, leaving the door open so that the room could air out. He then walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, next to Didi.

"So," he said, "why don't I start this conversational ball rolling by asking: How'd you end up with a name like 'Didina'?"

"My father wanted to call me 'Didi' and my mother wanted to call me 'Dina,' so they combined the two. I've always hated it—especially when I was a kid in school."

"Yeah, I can imagine. Kids can be cruel."

"It wasn't so much my classmates as it was my teachers. Some of them thought it was a typo, so they erased the second 'di' and just called me 'Dina' all the time."

"Whereas, you prefer to drop the 'na' and be called 'Didi.'"

She smiled. "Yes, I do. 'Didina' is a cumbersome name, and 'Dina' is too old-fashioned. 'Didi' is younger-sounding and . . . French . . . I think."

"Hey, I got nothin' against French names. And 'Didi' suits you."

"Thanks. So, why did _your_ parents name _you_ after an old actor?"

"He was only a _middle-aged_ actor when I was born," Cam commented. "Anyway, they told me they really liked him—especially on _The High Chaparral_."

Didi nodded. "It's a good, solid name. I like it."

"Yeah, me too. Kind of gives me an image to live up to, though, you know?"

"Why? A large portion of America's population doesn't even know who Cameron Mitchell was anymore."

"True, but _I_ do. I loved his performance in _How to Marry a Millionaire_."

"I kind of liked Rory Calhoun myself," Didi said, baiting him.

"Oh, is that so!" Cam tried to give her a noogy. She laughed. It was a magical, musical sound that lightened Cam's heart. While laughing, she ducked and put a hand on his chest, trying to push him away.

It was then that Cam noticed the silver-banded sapphire birthstone ring on her right hand and the matching studs in her pierced ears. He withdrew his hand from noogy position and took hold of the hand she had placed on his chest. "Nice jewelry," he said. "Did you pick the shirt to match the sapphires?—or the other way around?"

"Wha—? Oh! I hadn't even thought about it since I woke up here. My birthday's this week, so I kind of decided to advertise it a little bit—with the shirt _and _the jewelry. I'd planned to wear an outfit of a different shade of blue each day until my birthday is over."

"Exactly what date _is_ your birthday?" Cam asked, frowning slightly.

"The nineteenth," Didi stated, looking at Cam meaningfully.

Wondering why, Cam checked the date on his watch. "That's three days from now!" he solemnly declared. Then, looking at Didi again, he said, "That means you and I will be going into the arena together on your birthday. I guess defeating the Chak-tuk menace will have to be my birthday present to you, since I have no way of getting you anything. Sorry about that."

"Again, there's no reason for you to be sorry, Cam," she said. "Since we just met, I certainly wouldn't expect you to get me a birthday present even if you could. Anyway, you have no control over any of this. I'm just going to have to accept what is and deal with it as best I can."

"Yes, you are," Cam agreed, "and it's good that you realize that."

The door opened at that moment and Gor-lak walked in. "Stand up and get away from the bed."

The duo got as far away from the designated object as possible. Gor-lak then closed his eyes and touched the bed with the glowing tip of his rod. Before their eyes the king-sized bed rearranged itself into a set of twin beds. The new beds—just like the king—were covered with white sheets. The king-size pillows, however—with their white pillowcases—remained, one on each of the two beds. The Chak-tuk opened his eyes and looked at Cam. "Will these suffice?"

"Yeah. Yeah! These are great. Perfect. Thanks. How'd you do that, by the way?"

"I located the bigger bed and the pillows in a rather large building where several other beds appeared to be on display and I teleported them here. When you requested the change, I went back to your memory archives to have another look at the smaller beds I had seen there previously. The transmutation of the large bed into two smaller ones—along with the sheets—was much easier than was the teleportation of the larger bed from your Earth."

"We appreciate your willingness to do so much for us," Didi said sincerely.

"Yes, we do," Cam averred. "But while you're here . . ."

"Do you have other requests?" Gor-lak asked testily.

"Yes, we do," said Cam. "Soap, shampoo, another bath towel, hand or face towels, washcloths, toothpaste and toothbrushes, cups for drinking water out of, a comb and hairbrush, deodorant or antiperspirant, razors and some shaving cream or gel . . . Anything else, Didi?"

"I'd ask for a hairdryer, but since there are no electrical outlets in here, it would be pointless."

"I guess that's about it, then."

"It had better be," said Gor-lak stiffly. He then turned on his heel and left without another word. Cam and Didi could almost feel the electricity in his wake.

"Do you think maybe I asked for too much?" Cam asked.

Didi tilted her head to one side and looked thoughtful. "Maybe."

"It can't be helped," he said, rubbing his face. "_I_ need a shave, along with an honest-to-goodness soap-and-washrag bath . . . and I want _you_ to be clean and comfortable, too—if not entirely happy."

"Thanks, Cam, I appreciate it. But you've got a lot of nerve, standing up to him like that."

"You have no idea; you haven't yet seen everything he can do when he powers up that rod. . . . So, who gets which bed?"

"My father always said that a man should sleep closest to the door, so he can protect his wife if someone breaks in," said Didi.

"Okay, well, if it'll make you feel more secure, I'd be glad to sleep by the door."

Didi shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. I've been living alone for quite a while now, and since Gor-lak can come in here anytime he wants and you wouldn't be able to stop him if he _did_ get it into his head to hurt me, the point's kind of moot."

"Then why'd you bring it up?"

She shrugged. "Just giving you an option."

Cam smiled faintly. "I'll take the bed back here, then. Sometimes I have to, uh, go to the john in the middle of the night, and I wouldn't want to disturb you any more than necessary."

"Fair enough," Didi replied, sitting down on what was now her own bed.

Taking a seat next to her, Cam asked, "So, what were you _planning_ to do on your birthday?—before your life was so rudely interrupted by this whole alien-abduction scenario."

"My parents were going to have me over for dinner and planned to invite some guy—the son of one of my dad's golfing buddies, I think—and see if maybe the two of us would hit it off." She sighed. "They keep hoping I'll find some nice, rock-solid, dependable man and get remarried." She laughed hollowly while looking down at her feet and shook her head. "Like _that's_ gonna happen!"

Cam looked at her thoughtfully. "You were married before?"

"Yes—to my high school sweetheart. It didn't end well and left me badly bruised."

"Divorce usually does that to people. I'm sorry."

"The divorce was a few years ago, actually. I just kept hoping for a miracle, you know?—that if I got on with my life, maybe God would send me someone special: a man I could count on _all_ the time, who'd love me for _myself_ and not just for what I could give him. It didn't happen for me in Topeka, so I'm looking for a new venue. Anyway, when Eddie told me he was setting up shop in Colorado Springs and asked me to consider coming to work for him, I thought about it and something told me I should. . . . You know, that little voice inside your head that tells you when something's right?"

"Yeah, I've experienced it from time to time." _Especially since I joined SG-1,_ Cam thought.

"Have you ever been married, Cam?"

"Nope. Never found the time . . . or the right woman."

"So, what's your definition of 'the right woman'?"

"Someone who'd be comfortable down on the farm—someone my mom could get close to and who'd enjoy spending time with her. I made the mistake of taking Vala with me to my high school reunion. (She was bored and had nothing to do . . . wheedled me into taking her.) And even though my parents are about as open-minded as people of their generation are capable of being, I could tell Vala's behavior kind of caught them off guard. She's a real pistol, that girl."

"I could tell. What'd she say or do?"

Cam guffawed. "I don't think I really wanna revisit there, if you don't mind."

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse. On top of everything else, alien bounty hunters crashed the party, looking to kill us."

"_Alien bounty hunters? Really?"_

"Yep. Most memorable class reunion on record. But I'm not going to talk about _that_ aspect of it, either. If I could forget the whole experience, believe me, I would." He chose not to mention the fact that he'd had an up-close-and-personal encounter with Amy Vandenberg. He told her he'd had a crush on her when he was sixteen, and she'd confessed to having had a crush on him, as well. Somehow it didn't seem relevant now—especially since he'd invited Amy to come to Colorado Springs for a visit sometime and she'd never taken him up on it.

When nothing further was added to the story, Didi climbed over both beds, stood in front of the dresser and said, "Let's have a closer look at what we've got in here, shall we?"

"I already got a look at mine before I went in to take my shower," said Cam, joining Didi at the back of the room, a couple of feet away from her and the dresser. "I can't say that the shirt that's in there is one of my favorites, but there's not a lot I can do about it."

"Let's see," said Didi, curious.

"You show me yours first."

"Why? Is yours embarrassing?"

"You could say that. It's not one I would've picked if I'd had a choice—especially being alone in here with you."

"Colonel . . ." Didi said in a reproving tone.

"You're gonna see it sooner or later anyway. . . . I'd just prefer a little bit later. I need time to—"

"Come up with a reason for it?"

"More like a good answer for the question I know you're gonna ask."

"Okay, then," Didi sighed. She opened her drawer and took out her own T-shirt and held it up for Cam to see. It was chocolate brown and had a red M&M peanut figure on the front, wearing a bowler hat and an ascot. The caption beneath it said, **"I'M PAINTING THE TOWN RED."** Didi shook her head and crumpled the shirt up in her arms. "It's just plain stupid! I don't know why I even bought it."

"Hey," said Cam, "it's cute."

"Okay, hotshot: time to show me yours."

Cam grimaced. "I don't think you're gonna like it. . . ." Didi stared at him determinedly. He sighed. "Okay, okay." He reluctantly opened his own drawer, removed the culprit shirt, and held it up so Didi could see. It was black and featured a picture of an Air Force jet. The caption—in white lettering—read, _**"FLYBOYS DO IT BETTER!"**_

"And what might 'it' be?" Didi asked mischievously.

"Anything and everything," Cam replied with a feigned smile.

"Uh-huh," Didi commented. "You are _so_ full of it!" She spun her T-shirt into a makeshift whip and slapped his backside with it.

"Oh, you wanna tussle, huh? You're on, lady!" He began to spin his own T-shirt into a whip, but Didi climbed across both his bed and hers, far out of reach. "So, you're scared now! Fine." He grabbed the pillow from his bed and threw it at her with all the power of a hard-pitched baseball.

She shrieked. "I'll get you for that, Cameron Mitchell!"

Cam held his hands up to either side of his face—the palms facing his body—and motioned to her with his fingers, encouraging, "Bring it on, blondie!"

Didi took Cam's pillow in one hand and the one off her bed in the other, climbed over her bed so that she stood on the floor between the two beds, tossed Cam's pillow back onto his bed, climbed up onto that bed, and then, while on her knees, swung at the colonel's head. Busy grabbing his own pillow, Cam didn't have time to react and took the full force of Didi's swing on the left side of his face. It didn't even turn his head. He looked at his opponent smugly. "You hit like a girl!" he taunted her.

"Grr!" she growled, swinging again and saying, "That's because I _am_ a girl, you twerp!"

Cam's mouth opened slightly and he stood stock still, gazing at Didi with an injured look. "A twerp? You're calling _me_ a twerp?"

"What _should_ I call you?—a jerk?"

Cam nodded. "Yeah. A jerk'd be a whole lot better'n a twerp. A twerp is a nothing—a nobody . . . an insignificant _speck_ of a person. At least a jerk is . . . noticeable."

A smile broke out on Didi's face and she began to laugh again. She threw her pillow onto Cam's bed and fell back onto it, still laughing. Cam set his pillow down in the vicinity of Didi's feet, sat down on the edge of the bed—next to where Didi was lying—and smiled at her. "Thanks, Didi," he said.

"For what?" she asked.

"For being a good sport."

"A good sport? I insulted you."

Cam shook his head. "You didn't mean it. You just got caught up in the heat of the moment." He shrugged. "It happens sometimes when you're engaged in competition—_any_ kind of competition."

Now _she_ shook _her _head. "That wasn't a competition, Cam," she said. "That was just . . . getting rid of . . . a little bit of . . . angst, I guess."

"Angst, huh?" He looked at her with concern. "There's no doubt you have cause for it. That's one of the reasons I wanted us to have more than one day in here: I want us to get to know each other well enough that we'll have formed an emotional bond before we go into the arena."

Didi sat up, nodded, took hold of her pillow and clutched it in her lap between her abdomen and her bent knees. "I understand what you mean, Cam. I already _know_ you'll do everything you can _physically _to protect me. But when you _care_ about someone . . . you tend to put your heart and soul into it, too. There's more at stake when you care because it hurts more if you fail."

"Exactly, and I _want_ that emotional edge. I _want_ to care enough about you to give it my all—just as I would for Sam or any of the others. At this point, you matter to me because you're a human being, brought here against your will. That alone is reason enough for me to fight with every ounce of strength I possess to protect you. But, by the end of three days, I should have all the power of an angry bull ready to be unleashed."

Didi smiled and said, "I'd like to see that."

"You just may," said Cam with a soft smile. Then he added, "But, regardless of what our relationship is like by the time we enter the arena, I promise you I'll do my best to keep you alive and safe."

"Thanks, Cam."

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "Don't thank me till it's all over and we're both still alive."

Suddenly, Didi's stomach began to rumble. She buried her face in her pillow and snorted.

"Sounds like someone's hungry," Cam said, smiling again. He looked at his watch. "I set my wristwatch to Planet Max Standard Time our first full day here. Dinner should be arriving soon."

Didi looked up. "What's the food like here?"

"It's Earth food. I think Gorlie's teleporting it, too."

"I guess we should fold our shirts and put them back in the dresser drawers before dinner arrives, at least," said Didi, tossing her pillow to her own bed and grabbing her shirt from where she'd left it after using it for a whip. "We have to wear them tomorrow, after all."

Cam nodded and picked up his own shirt. "You're right. And since you're closest to the dresser, you can go first."

Didi sat on the edge of Cam's bed, folded her shirt neatly, and put it away in the top drawer of the dresser. She then got out of the way so that Cam could put his own shirt away.

No sooner had Cam closed his drawer than the door opened and food was brought in on a serving cart. The cart was big enough to hold two plates and two glasses, which meant that the duo could use it for a table if they so chose. Cam got to his feet, wandered over to where the cart was, put his hands on his hips and looked at the Chak-tuk servant who had delivered the food. "A couple of folding chairs would be nice . . . ." he said.

The servant said nothing.

"No chance, huh? Or maybe it's because you don't have a rod, so you can't translate what I'm saying." He sighed and looked down at the food. "Oh, well. I've been eating with my plate in my lap for the past five days, so I suppose one more won't hurt." He picked up a plate and handed it across to Didi, who was climbing over her own bed to get there. She sat on the edge of the bed and took the porcelain dish from his hand. Cam then sat down beside her, pulling the cart toward them so that they could reach their water glasses or set their plates on the cart whenever they needed to cut their food. "I'll talk to Gorlie next time he comes and see if we can get some chairs in here."

Seeing that the humans were now eating, the servant left the room.

"Roast beef, mashed potatoes 'n' gravy, corn on the cob, broccoli with cheddar cheese sauce . . . This looks like my _mom's_ cooking! And the plates and silverware look like they came from home, too!"

"Do you think—?"

Cam shrugged. "It's possible—especially if Gor-lak _is_ getting our food directly from Earth."

"Do they get _everything_ from Earth?"

"Everything they _give us_ probably, yes. _They_ sleep on floor mats, but Gor-lak gave us beds. And the bathroom stuff . . . They have things that _resemble_ toilets—like the one you saw in the other room—but they're not quite the same thing . . . probably because Chak-tuk physiology is different from human physiology. They don't bathe, either; they shower. So, except for in our memory archives, they've never seen a tub before."

"Why would they go to so much trouble?" Didi wondered aloud.

"As far as food goes," said Cam, "probably because they realize it's necessary. Our human bodies can't process Chak-tuk food. As for the rest . . . Gor-lak said he was doing it for _your_ comfort. He's taken great pains to keep you mollified. Till _you_ came, they really hadn't put forth a lot of effort to keep the rest of us happy."

"Nothing at all?"

"Not much. You saw the condition we were in when you arrived . . . pathetic! The other four _were_ given different types of outfits to wear while they were in the arena, so that their uniforms could be taken and cleaned while they were participating in their events. And they were allowed to _shower_ afterward—which, as I told you earlier, was on Saturday for Sam and Teal'c and on Sunday for Vala and Jackson. Those were the only times they were given that privilege. Still, they were cleaner than _I_ was."

"So, what did they wear while they were in the arena?"

"I'm not sure why," said Cam, "but they were primarily wearing outfits straight out of movies and TV shows."

"Really? I would've liked to've seen that!"

"It was a hoot, let me tell ya," Cam replied with a sardonic smile.

"For example?"

"Vala was dressed as Dorothy, from _The Wizard of Oz_."

"That's kind of out of character for her, isn't it? I mean, I don't really know her, but she doesn't seem the 'Dorothy' type."

"Like Jackson said, she's got a mercenary background, so yeah—'Dorothy' isn't really her style. When she's not wearing her Stargate fatigues, she usually likes to dress in black leather. I suspect they wanted her dressed as Dorothy so that she'd behave a bit more . . . ladylike." He shook his head. "Didn't work. I can tell you one thing, though: she's got nice legs."

Didi sniggered.

"Hey, what can I say? I'm a guy."

"True," replied Didi, smiling and nodding. "What about Sam? Who was she dressed as?"

"Marie Curie—that's who _she_ thought she was, anyway. The clothing style was right for the time period, and Sam admitted she'd always admired the woman. . . ."

"I wonder what they'll put _me_ in."

"No telling—probably something from your own memory."

"Point taken. What about Daniel? How was he dressed?"

"Jackson was Indiana Jones. He had both the fedora and the whip, but they gave him a knife instead of a gun."

Didi laughed. "That's crazy! He doesn't have the physique for that. Don't get me wrong: I can tell by looking at him that he's been working out. But he's still a long way from being built like Harrison Ford. He has a smaller frame, for one thing."

"That he does. But, when you think about it, who else would Jackson emulate if he were an ordinary archaeologist, rather than being part of an intergalactic exploration team?"

"You have a point. And Teal'c? What was he wearing?"

"Oh, Teal'c . . . he was _Shaft_. (He had a knife instead of a gun, too—a very _big_ knife.)"

"That's interesting. Teal'c's an alien, isn't he?"

"Yeah. He's a Jaffa, like Vala told you. Used to be First Prime of Apophus before he changed sides and joined SG-1. That was a lot o' years ago—back when General O'Neill was a colonel and they first started going through the 'gate on a regular basis. But that's a story for another time."

"I'll bet you have a _lot_ of stories you could tell me."

"Yeah, I could. But then . . . ." Cam shrugged and chewed.

"You'd have to shoot me, yeah, I know. You made it pretty clear that the whole Stargate thing is classified." She smiled faintly and shook her head. "But who am I gonna tell? We're all stuck here for the duration, aren't we?"

"I hope not. We should've been rescued at least two days ago. The only reason I can figure that it hasn't happened yet is that the Chak-tuk buried the 'gate: you can't dial in to a planet if the 'gate's been buried. General Landry would've sent another team after us when we didn't report in or return to Earth within a reasonable amount of time. The 'gate being buried is the only thing that makes sense."

"So, they'll send a ship for you, right?—like they do when the DHD doesn't work?"

"Yeah, and I'm sure it's already on its way. How long it'll take 'em to get here—even with the hyper-drive—I couldn't say. Sam's better than I am with the mathematics of space-time . . . distance in light years and all that crap. She probably knows exactly how far away from Earth we are and about how long it'd take a ship to get here—_if_ it's working at peak efficiency and doesn't run into trouble anywhere along the way. Worst case scenario: we'll get rescued in about a month."

Didi sighed. "I guess that's not _too_ bad. At least I'm in good company."

"Some of the best—and I'm _not_ talking about myself."

Didi nodded. "I know. You have a lot of respect for the others—except maybe Vala."

"She has her good points, and I respect her abilities. But . . . yeah, she can be a handful."

"So, what would _you_ like to wear in the arena?" Didi asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, hel-eck, I don't know." Cam had no idea why, but he felt a need to curb his tongue around Didi. It'd been years since he'd censored himself that way. Didi seemed to have the innate ability to quietly influence others to be their best selves.

She smiled furtively at the change he made. Then she asked, "No ideas at all?"

"Oh, I guess . . . maybe . . . Luke Skywalker, Jedi Knight."

"Which outfit?"

"The black one he wore when he faced the emperor in _Return of the Jedi_."

"Good choice. You think they'd give you a light saber with it?"

"Why not? My guess is, it's technology the Chak-tuk can handle."

"That'd be cool." Didi looked at her plate while contemplating that thought.

Cam set his plate and flatware on the cart, polished off his water, and, as he placed the glass back on the cart, exhaled in the way that a satisfied diner does. "Ah! That was delicious. I just hope that—if Gor-lak _did _get this from Earth—Mom doesn't freak out too much when she finds hers and Dad's dinner missing."

"Gee, I hadn't even thought about that," said Didi, as she set her empty plate down on the cart. "What do you think she'd do?"

"Look all over the place for it . . . try to figure out where she put it . . . think maybe she's losing her mind . . . dish out (or make) more food . . . ." He pushed the cart away. "I only hope the Chak-tuk send the plates, silverware and glasses back—_clean_—after they come to get 'em from us."

"We will, Colonel Mitchell," said Gor-lak, entering the room. The duo had been so engrossed in conversation that they hadn't heard the door open. "Was the food satisfactory?"

"Mom's home cooking is a _lot_ better than just 'satisfactory,' Gor-lak; it's . . . stupendous. I only wish I could thank Mom. But, under the circumstances, all I can do is thank _you_ for bringing it to us."

"I am pleased that you enjoyed it. Now . . . your companions are asking about you. I have decided to allow you to spend a few hours with them before you all retire for the night."

"Really?" Cam fairly jumped to his feet. "Let's go, then."

Didi stood up, too, but more slowly, looking at Cam's eager face. It was almost shining. She bit her lip contemplatively. _He cared so much about them. . . . Would he ever feel that way about her, even after the three days he hoped would be enough to make it happen?_

"Get it in gear, Didi!" he called to her from the doorway. She was taken aback. He'd already left her side and she hadn't even noticed.

"I'm coming," she said. "I just wasn't sure if I was invited."

"What? You think I'd leave you here alone? I'm sure the others are just as worried about _you_ as they are about _me_."

"I doubt it, but it's sweet of you to say so."

Cam rolled his eyes and shook his head as the door closed behind them. "Would you _stop that_?"

"Stop what?"

"Stop thinking you don't matter. You do. You matter _very much_—to _all_ of us. Wait and see."

Inwardly, Cam was hoping and praying that his colleagues wouldn't prove him wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: MORE REVELATIONS

After Gor-lak had unlocked and opened the heavy door, Cam allowed Didi to enter ahead of him. Everyone gathered around her.

"Are you all right?" Sam asked her, taking her hands and looking into her eyes.

Didi nodded and smiled faintly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Gor-lak just moved us to another room, two doors down and across the hall. He even gave us beds and a bathroom."

Gor-lak grunted and left the room, locking the door once again.

"Yep," Cam confirmed. "We watched him do some awesome transmuting—turning a king-sized bed into a pair of twins. Before we got there, he'd already turned a storage closet into a full-fledged bathroom. It was . . . _rad_, man!"

"Cam," Sam asked, "why are you talking like an '80s teenager?"

"Because I feel . . . rejuvenated. Didi and I had a pillow fight. . . . It was great. I haven't had that much fun in a month of Sundays."

"You had a king-sized bed and Gor-lak changed it into two twins?" Vala queried, her mind stuck on that one comment. "Why on Earth did you let him do it?"

Cam gave Vala a look that said, _Duh! Why do you _think_?_

"Oh, of course. How silly of me. This is Didi from Kansas we're talking about."

"Vala," said Cam, "if it were _you_ alone in that room with me, I'd _still _have asked for twin beds."

"Ditto," said Daniel, which drew a hurt look from Vala. She walked over to a corner of the room and sat down on the floor to pout.

"So, what's up with this other room thing, anyway?" Daniel asked. "And how come you guys get beds and a bathroom? It hardly seems fair."

"The beds and bathroom are for Didi's sake," Cam explained. "Gor-lak knows she's not used to roughing it the way we are and he wants her to be . . . comfortable, I guess—mollified, at least. As for why we were moved . . . We're spending time alone together in that room so that we can get to know each other better. So far it's been a blast."

"So, what've you been doing that's so much fun?" Vala asked from her corner, "—other than the pillow fight."

Cam looked over and down at her, his arms folded, a no-nonsense look on his face. "Talking and having dinner . . . my mom's home cooking. It was delicious."

"_We_ had what tasted like Dinty Moore Beef Stew," said Sam. "I wonder whose cupboard _that_ came out of."

Daniel raised a guilty hand. "That would be mine. I don't do a lot of cooking, except with my microwave."

"Nor do I," said Teal'c. "I do not have the skill or the patience to create a meal 'from scratch,' as you call it. I find many of the microwaveable meals quite satisfactory. And I also enjoy . . . pizza."

"Anybody have a container of microwaveable lasagna in their freezer?" Daniel queried.

Sam raised her hand. "But it's single-serving stuff." She shrugged. "Of course, I do have about six of them. I suppose Gor-lak could bring enough for the four of us. . . ."

"Well," said Daniel, "since we're all together again, why don't we sit down on the floor mats and spend some time chatting, so Didi can get to know us better? I think she'd feel a lot more . . . _at ease _. . . here with us if she knew more about us."

"Sure," said Cam. "All right," said Sam at the same time.

"I'm already on the floor," Vala pointed out. "But I'll just scooch over there and join the rest of you, shall I?"

Teal'c sat down without saying a word. Didi was amazed that he always seemed so calm. "So, I can ask questions, then?—of all of you?" she queried.

"I don't see why not," said Cam. "If you ask a question we don't wanna answer, all we hafta do is take the Fifth." He smiled wryly. Didi smiled back.

"And, if it's okay with you, we'd like to ask _you_ a few questions, too," said Daniel, looking at her with an inquiring gaze.

Didi nodded. "Sure; that's only fair." She shrugged. "Not that there's that much to tell. My life isn't all that interesting, really."

"Nonetheless . . . if there're no objections, I'll start," said Daniel. Without waiting to see if there _were_ any objections, he asked, "What exactly do you do in the optometrist's office where you work?"

"Now that _is _uninteresting," Didi said with a sigh. "But, if you really wanna know . . . I schedule appointments, take measurements for bifocals, help fit frames onto people's heads so they don't fall off, clean new lenses, teach first-timers how to insert contact lenses, call customers when their glasses or contacts are in . . . pretty much everything."

"It sounds boring . . . and tedious," Vala commented.

"No editorializing," Cam told her.

"I'd like to ask _all_ of you the same question," said Didi, looking around the room.

"Shoot," said Cam.

Didi smiled. "I already asked you, Cam."

"Ah. _That_ question. I can tell you up front that—of the four of them—Sam's the only one who's never been married. She was _engaged_ twice, though."

"Oh. I won't ask for details or anything. If any of you _want_ to talk about your . . . relationships, that's fine. But I won't pry."

"My wife's name was Sha're," said Daniel. "I met her on my initial trip through the 'gate, when we first got it up and running. We went to a planet called Abydos, which is where we first encountered the Goa'uld."

Daniel then proceeded to tell Didi exactly what the Goa'uld were (in their adult form) and added to it the sad story of his wife's being taken as a Goa'uld host, along with the details of her subsequent death—by Teal'c's hand.

"If Daniel Jackson's life had not been at stake, I would never have acted as I did," said Teal'c.

"He's right," said Daniel. "Teal'c had no choice but to kill her. If he'd had a zat, maybe . . . but he didn't. All he had was his staff weapon—standard Jaffa issue. It was so hard, seeing her lying there with a hole the size of my fist in her. . . ."

"That must've been awful," Didi said sympathetically.

"It was a long time ago, but . . . sometimes it still haunts me," Daniel replied.

"So, the Goa'uld system lords are all gone now?" Didi queried.

"Yes, they are," Cam stated. "We wiped out all the system lords with help from the Jaffa rebel factions and the Tok'ra."

"Vala said earlier that _Teal'c_ is a Jaffa. What exactly does that mean?" Didi asked.

Teal'c explained to Didi the history of the Jaffa and their role as Goa'uld symbiote incubators.

"So, you have one of those . . . snake things . . . in your abdomen?"

"Not any longer. Many of us now use a drug called tretonin, which enables us to live without a symbiote. When we chose to rebel against our false gods, we no longer wanted to bear their young within our bodies."

"Understandable. So, what is (or are) the Tok'ra?"

Sam explained the history of the Tok'ra, as well as their attitude toward their hosts, as opposed to that of the Goa'uld system lords.

Cam said, "Sam knows a lot about the Tok'ra because she was host to one herself for a short time, and her dad was one for a few years. He and his symbiote, Selmak, sacrificed their lives to help destroy another nasty enemy of ours, the replicators. Jacob Carter was a hero-and-a-half in _my_ book."

"Thanks, Cam," Sam said quietly.

"I'm sorry for you loss, Sam," said Didi.

"Dad was dying of cancer. Selmak gave him more time than he would've had. He was grateful for it."

"You mean, the symbiotes can heal the host body?"

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "Even the young ones carried by the Jaffa have the ability to heal most of the wounds received in battle. Unfortunately, they also destroy the immune system of the Jaffa host."

Didi looked thoughtful. "And the tretonin helps you to overcome that?"

"Indeed. Although we must inject ourselves with it on a regular basis, it is far better than having the need to replace a symbiote with a new one each time the one we carry reaches maturity. Tretonin can be mass produced and easily carried on one's person. A symbiote cannot."

"Daniel mentioned one more thing . . . a 'zat'?"

"A zat," Cam repeated, "yeah. I could show you one if Gor-lak and his buddies hadn't taken all our stuff away from us. It's a Goa'uld weapon . . . shoots a beam of energy, kind of like a localized lightning bolt. One shot stuns the target, two shots kill, and three shots disintegrate the body."

"Oh. So if Teal'c had had a zat—"

"He could've _stunned_ Sha're instead of killing her," Daniel finished.

"But we didn't have any on that particular mission," Sam explained. "We were trying to rescue some captured Abydonians from Apophus's forces. Stunning the Jaffa wasn't really on the agenda."

"Understandable under the circumstances," Didi said, "and I really am sorry about Sha're." Then, looking at the entire group, she asked, "Does anyone else want to share?"

"I was married," said Vala, "more than once. But only the last one really took at all. His name is Tomin. He's a really, really _good _man . . . from another galaxy. We were brought together by some very unusual circumstances. I didn't love him when I married him, but I _grew_ to love him as I spent time with him. Because we were from different galaxies, we decided it best to separate . . . after the Ori were completely destroyed."

Daniel then told Didi all about the Ori, ending by saying, "Their teachings, as such, weren't all that bad. The _bad_ thing was that any village, town or city that refused to bow the knee to the Ori was completely decimated; it was a case of worship-us-or-die. They didn't believe in free will, which is why we ended up having to destroy them."

"Another long story," Cam commented.

"So, you've destroyed the Goa'uld system lords and some 'ascended beings' called the Ori and some other threat you referred to as replicators. What were they?"

"Huge metal _bugs_," said Cam.

Sam then explained how she, her father and Ba'al—the last of the system lords—found a way to destroy every replicator in the galaxy at the same time.

"Are there any other super-villainous aliens out there that you haven't destroyed yet?"

"Not that we've found so far," said Cam.

"So, what do you do now to justify your existence?" Didi asked with a mischievous smile.

"We try to make new friends and look for more advanced technology we can use," Daniel replied.

"That's been the purpose of the SGC from the beginning," said Sam. "We ended up at war with the Goa'uld, the replicators and the Ori because they were enslaving and/or killing people throughout the galaxy."

"So, it was just one villainous group after another."

"Pretty much, yeah," said Daniel. "In fact, during Colonel Mitchell's tenure, we've had to contend with all three—sometimes two at the same time."

"Yep," said Cam. "The Goa'uld and the replicators; the Goa'uld and the Ori . . . . Good thing I'd read all the mission reports."

"And that you were finally able to persuade these three to come back to the team," said Vala.

"Amen to that! It wouldn't've been the same with a bunch of newbies."

"Well, the way things turned out, we probably would've been drafted into coming back sooner or later, anyway," said Daniel. "Jack would've seen to it if General Landry hadn't."

"Jack?"

"General O'Neill," said Teal'c.

"Jackson has always called him by his first name," Cam explained. "He's allowed, since he's not in the military . . . and they've known each other for a really long time."

"Jack and I went through the 'gate to Abydos together on the very first mission," Daniel stated. "He didn't like me much at first—he being completely military and me being a . . . geek. But I guess I kinda grew on him."

"What's he like?"

"When he's not in command mode, he's really kind of fun to be around," Daniel admitted.

"Indeed. He enjoys action movies, hot pizza and a cold six pack," said Teal'c.

Didi smiled. "So, except for being a general in the Air Force, he's pretty much a regular guy."

"'A regular guy' who's risked his neck time and again to save not only Earth, but every inhabited planet in the galaxy," said Cam. "He's a bona fide hero. He's been decorated several times—secretly, for the most part, since the Stargate _is_ a secret."

"It seems to me that _all_ of you are unsung heroes," said Didi. "I'm in awe of you."

"Did you know Daniel has died at least four times?" said Vala.

Didi looked at Daniel, her eyes wide. "Really?"

"It wasn't that big a deal. Dying is highly overrated—and so is ascension."

"Don't ask," said Cam quickly. "We'll be here all night—and we don't _have_ all night."

"You guys are awesome—all of you."

"Even me?" asked Vala.

"You've done more than your share, Vala," Cam admitted. "You've risked your neck a time or two, just like the rest of us. And you've helped us out of some tight spots with your galactic street smarts and your knowledge of Goa'uld technology. There're a lot of things we'd've never managed as quickly or efficiently without you."

"She's saved all of our lives at least once," Sam added. "She's not the same person she was when Daniel first met her. We all respect her for that. It wasn't an easy change for her to make."

"In some ways it was," Vala demurred, looking longingly at Daniel. Didi could tell that Daniel was fond of Vala, but the love she had for him was _not_ returned. Didi felt sorry for her in that regard.

"Were _you_ ever married, Miss Steadman?" Teal'c queried, drawing Didi's attention from Vala.

"Yes, she was," said Cam. "She married her high school sweetheart, but they got divorced some time ago."

The others were looking at him, obviously wondering why he had spoken for Didi.

"She told me that back in the other room," he said by way of explanation. "I didn't want her to have to answer the same question twice."

"Maybe I shouldn't ask this question," Daniel said hesitantly, "but why'd you get divorced? Was your husband abusive?—because I can't imagine any man in his right mind divorcing a woman like you. You're attractive, witty, intelligent . . . ."

"Down, boy!" Cam said to Daniel.

Daniel looked at Cam askance. "I'm just saying . . . whatever the reason for the divorce, it had to've been her husband's fault. _She_ probably divorced _him_." He looked at Didi for confirmation.

Didi looked sheepish and shook her head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Daniel, but no. _He _divorced _me._ Was he abusive? In a way I guess he was. As Cam said, Tad was my high school sweetheart. We were nuts about each other for years and got married right out of college.

"One of the things we'd talked about was having kids. It was something we both wanted. Except for the required ones, all of the classes I took in college were geared toward home and family life. I even took child psychology and parenting classes. But I kept working as a secretary-receptionist in one office or another, waiting, hoping and praying that sooner or later I'd get pregnant." She shook her head. "It never happened.

"When we went to a specialist, he told me that there was something wrong with me—some inoperable, uncorrectable condition that was preventing me from getting pregnant. There was nothing he or anyone else could do. Tad was devastated. The one thing he'd always wanted was a child he could call his own. He refused to consider adoption, artificial insemination, surrogacy or anything else. If he and I couldn't have a child of our own, together, then he wasn't going to waste his time with me anymore. He left me and married a woman who _could_ give him children. They have three now. And I'm stuck living out my life alone and childless."

Didi heard Cam quietly call her ex-husband a rather unseemly expletive. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to hug him. She resisted, however, and tried not to let her delight at his reaction show.

"I'm sorry. It must've been extremely painful for you," said Daniel.

"No more so than losing Sha're was for you," Didi replied.

"Didi, if you managed to find a man with all of the qualities you told me your parents would want him to have, would you consider remarrying?" Cam asked.

"You mean, 'nice, rock solid and dependable'? If he was all of those things, if we got along well together, and if we truly loved each other, then, yes, I would . . . by all means." Didi was looking directly into his eyes and saw him smiling at her almost imperceptibly. Her heart began to race. _Oh, if only . . .! _she caught herself thinking.

Evidently, the members of SG-1 now decided that they wanted to learn more about Ms. Steadman's likes and dislikes: who and what her favorite people and things were. Sam was the first to speak up. She asked, "Didi, who's your greatest hero?"

"You mean, aside from _you guys_?" she asked with a smile.

Sam let out a short laugh. "Yes—aside from us."

Didi bit her lip. "That's hard; the word 'hero' has so many connotations. . . . Um, I guess I'd have to say Abraham Lincoln."

"Good choice," said Sam.

As the questioning continued, they learned that Didi's favorite heroine was Helen Keller; her favorite fictional heroes were Robin Hood and Zorro (which greatly disappointed Cam, as he was hoping she'd say Luke Skywalker); her favorite fictional detective was Hercule Poirot, the eccentric Belgian created by Agatha Christie; her favorite romantic movie was the original _Wuthering Heights_, with Laurence Olivier; and her favorite romantic comedy was _While You Were Sleeping_, because she loved a good comedy-of-errors.

Didi's questions for the group were, for the most part, centered around their experiences going through the Stargate. She asked, "As a group, what's the scariest thing you've ever faced?"

Four of the five members of SG-1 looked at each other, smiled, and then, turning their eyes to Didi, replied (almost in unison), "A fire-breathing dragon."

"A _genuine_ fire-breathing dragon?" Didi asked incredulously.

"Yep," said Cam. "It was guarding the location of the Sangraal . . . otherwise known as The Holy Grail. (Sam wasn't with us at that time, having some work to do at Area 51.)"

Daniel then told Didi everything about the dragon; Morgan LeFey; how he (Daniel) had been endowed with Merlin's consciousness; and how and why he became an Ori Prior for a short time.

"Wow! That sounds like a fantasy bedtime story!" commented Didi. "I love it!"

"If you're a fan of historical fiction," said Daniel, "then you've probably read a lot about King Arthur, Camelot and the Knights of the Round Table."

"Yes, I have. My favorite books are the ones by Mary Stewart. They're much more realistic than most of the others."

"More realistic, yes," Daniel admitted, "but still far from accurate."

"But Mary Stewart didn't know about the Ancients," Sam pointed out.

"True," Daniel admitted, "and those books are well written."

"What are these books you're talking about?" Vala asked.

"The first one is called 'The Crystal Cave,'" Daniel said.

"The second one is 'The Hollow Hills,'" Didi added. "You can probably find them in the fantasy section of any good library. If you read those two and like them, you can look for the other two books and finish the series. But they are kind of long, so it might take you a while to get through them."

"I'm a fast and voracious reader," said Vala, "—especially if I really like what I'm reading."

"Like those steamy romance novels you buy every week?" Daniel teased her.

"A girl has to get her thrills somewhere," Vala replied with a shrug, "—even if it is between the pages of a book." She was looking at Daniel meaningfully. Didi came to his rescue.

"Daniel," she said, "since we were interrupted earlier, what else can you tell me about the Chak-tuk?—about why they call themselves 'God's chosen children.'"

"Centuries ago the Goa'uld ruled this planet, just as they did so many others. Their base of operations was here, where this citadel is located.

"The ancestors of the Chak-tuk lived on a continent on the other side of the world, but it suffered a terrible dearth of some kind, beginning with a lack of rainfall. Exactly what caused the dearth, they've never known. What resulted was worse than a mere famine. The Chak-tuk were slowly starving to death. They ate everything that cropped up out of the ground and every animal they could find that wasn't poisonous and made their way gradually to the seacoast. When they arrived, they built boats from the barren trees and set out on the sea to find greener pastures.

"They were met when they reached this continent by a village of humans—the first they had ever seen. The humans were frightened of them because of their horrible appearance. Being in subjugation to the Goa'uld, they believed the Chak-tuk had come to destroy them and their masters, so they decided to strike first and began to slaughter the alien invaders. Once all of their boats landed, the Cha-tuk outnumbered the humans, but they forbore fighting back. For one thing, they were too weak from hunger; and, secondly, they had no desire to strike down creatures that were so obviously physically inferior to themselves. When the villagers finally realized that the Chak-tuk meant them no harm, they stopped trying to kill them and offered them food and water.

"The humans had apparently found a new form of plant life—one that didn't grow on the continent from which the Chak-tuk came. The Chak-tuk tried it, discovered that it tasted good, and ate it. Almost instantly—among those now known as elders—came renewed strength and—"

"Let me guess," said Cam, "they suddenly had powers they'd never had before."

"Yep."

"So the Power originated with a _plant_?" asked Sam.

"Apparently. The humans had been eating the stuff, too, but it didn't do anything to them—or to the Jaffa. It appears that its unusual properties only work on the Chak-tuk, and only on a relatively small percentage of them: those whose brains are uniquely structured to produce the enzyme necessary to imbue the individual with the Power.

"Currently, there are three castes in Chak-tuk society. Gor-lak, as I mentioned earlier, is what the other Chak-tuk refer to in their language as an 'elder.' All of those who have the rods and possess the Power to manipulate matter are elders.

"Then there are the warriors—like those we fought in the arena. Although they wear side arms when on patrol or guard duty, they—and we—are only allowed non-tech weapons when competing in the arena. Otherwise, I guess we'd end up with nothing more than a _High Noon_-type showdown every time.

"The third group is that of the servant class. They're much smaller in bulk than the warriors and shorter in stature than the elders. Their function seems to be solely to serve. They never speak—not even to _each other_ that **I've** ever observed. They simply bow their heads in acknowledgement of their orders and then do what they're told.

"Originally, there were divisions among those three castes: those who are now known as 'elders' were once scholars, teachers, doctors and scientists. Those of the warrior caste were, at one time, the laborers: lumberjacks, carpenters, mechanics, plumbers . . . basically what we would call 'blue-collar workers' in our society. Those of the servant class worked at anything that didn't require a great deal of brain power or brawn. They have less physical strength than the warriors and less intellect than the elders.

"Anyway, once they had the Power, the elders—along with the warriors—stormed the Goa'uld mother ship, killing the ruling system lord, Maat (who was known in Egyptian mythology as the goddess of justice and truth) and all of her Jaffa. The human slaves were allowed to go to the surrounding villages to live among their own kind. After studying the mother ship and gleaning what technological knowledge they could from it, the elders transmuted it into this citadel. "

Before anyone could ask any questions or say another word, the door opened and Gor-lak entered the room. "It is time for Colonel Mitchell and Miss Steadman to return to their quarters and for all of you to prepare to retire for the night."

"Uh, Gor-lak . . . after all you've done for Miss Steadman and me," Cam ventured, "I really hate to ask, but . . . is there any way you could maybe . . . give these guys some pillows and blankets? Sleeping on the floor is bad enough, but not having a _cover_? . . . It gets cold down there and we're pretty thin-skinned critters."

Gor-lak gave a half-bow. "I shall see that pillows and blankets are brought for your companions, Colonel Mitchell. I would not want any of you to become ill." Even with the rod translating his words, the tone of his voice sounded somewhat condescending.

"Thank you, Gor-lak," said Sam. "We really appreciate it."

Gor-lak bowed again. "Come along, Colonel Mitchell, Miss Steadman."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4: TRUST

Once they were back in their room, Didi sat down on her bed, while Cam asked Gor-lak if he'd gotten the amenities for use in the bathroom that they'd asked for earlier.

"I have . . . _procured_ the items you requested, but I have not yet had the opportunity to bring them to you. I have been busy with . . . other things."

"Such as?"

"Convincing the Events Committee to allow you to have three days in this room, as I told you I would endeavor to do. They were _not_ pleased, but they did acquiesce."

"I'm glad. And now, since you're being so civil to Miss Steadman and me, I was wondering—"

"What is it now, Colonel Mitchell?" Gor-lak asked with exasperation.

"Could you maybe make a bathroom for the rest of SG-1? . . . and get them some of the same stuff you're getting for us?"

"Why should I do that?"

"What? You guys don't shower on a regular basis? Come on! They already stink to high heaven and look like something the cat dragged in. . . . Scratch that. A cat is an Earth animal you have no way of knowing anything about. . . ."

"I have probably seen them in your memory archives. However, the allusion to something one of those creatures 'dragged in' is incomprehensible. But if you are trying to say that without the use of the items you have requested, they will smell worse than they do now and their appearance will continue to deteriorate—"

"That's it exactly!" Cam said.

"I have noticed that you and your comrades are looking a bit . . . ragged, shall we say?"

Cam shrugged. "Like I said, you could give _them_ a bathroom, too. Let them bathe or shower, wash their hair, brush their teeth, _shave_ . . . . It's all a part of what it means to be a civilized human being."

"Your team has had much worse accommodations than those I have provided, Colonel," the elder said testily.

"Yes, but . . . we were actual _prisoners_ in those circumstances. We were tortured and questioned and questioned and tortured . . . and just _waiting _to be executed. We weren't put on display for the entire population to see. We were _not_ daily entertainment for the masses . . . if you get my meaning. Or do your people _enjoy _seeing (and smelling) filthy, bedraggled contestants in the arena?"

"We have never had human contestants before," stated Gor-lak. "We were not aware that your physical requirements were so . . . demanding."

"From what Jackson was telling us, there used to be humans here, long ago, when your ancestors first settled here after the Great Dearth." Cam was making an assumption when he referred to the ancient event by that title, but it was a logical postulation.

Gor-lak bowed his head in acknowledgement of the statement, verifying Cam's conjecture. "This is true, and there are still human villages in the vicinity," he said. "However, once our ancestors—those who developed the Power and those who later became the warrior caste—destroyed the Goa'uld system lord who ruled here, they allowed the humans to live in peace. We have had no interaction with them as a species since that time. We have no idea what changes may have taken place among them over the centuries. Whether they, too, are in need of such necessaries as you and your colleagues have requested, we do not know."

"You're not in the least bit afraid that they might have developed some technology that could be a threat to you?"

"Why should we be? With our Power and the fighting skills of our warriors, what have we to fear from _any_ humans, no matter how advanced their technology might be?"

Cam found the arrogance of the Chak-tuk—particularly in regard to their view of humans—insulting, to say the least. He bit back the retort he was dying to make, however, and said, "Still, there are reasons you found beds, bathrooms, and assorted items of clothing and toiletries in _our_ memories, Gor-lak. They're everyday things to us; they're what we're _used to_. We _can_ go without them if we absolutely have to, but . . . we're not usually happy about it when we do. Our culture is very different from yours. I should think you'd've come to realize that by now."

"Indeed I have," Gor-lak groused. "It is far _too_ different; I am beginning to have . . . misgivings." He turned on his heel abruptly and left the room.

"Uh-oh," said Cam, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. "I think I might've pushed him too far this time."

"At least he didn't point his rod at you and try to fry you with it," Didi commented.

"There is that," Cam agreed, bringing his arms around to the front of his body and folding them.

"I have a feeling we're all gonna get everything we want," said Didi. "We are his star attractions, after all, and if there's one thing talent agents learn early on, it's that you have to—"

"—keep your stars happy," Cam finished for her, nodding. "I hope you're right."

"I hope so, too." She sighed, got off the bed and stretched. "It's getting late and I'm tired. This has got to've been one of the longest days of my life. I'd like to take a bath as soon as possible and go to bed and get some sleep."

"In the meantime, now that we're alone again, let's have another question-and-answer session. I have more invested in getting to know you better than the rest of the team does."

"So, what do you want to know? I told you: my life isn't all that interesting."

"Maybe your _life_, as such, isn't very interesting . . . but _you_—as a person—definitely are."

"Me? Yeah, right! As if . . . ."

Cam shook his head and gave her a no-nonsense look. "You obviously have self-esteem issues, Didi. I don't know how much of that is tied to your ex's rejection of you, but there's something you need to think about: women—especially nowadays—have a lot more to offer than just being baby machines. The fact that you can't have children doesn't make you any less valuable or worthwhile a person than a woman who can. Your ex was a fool if he didn't see that."

"Then I guess he _was_ a fool," she said quietly.

"Among other things." Cam paused and looked at her questioningly. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-three. I'll be thirty-four on Friday."

"Still not too late to start a family—," Cam stated, relaxing his arms and pacing the floor a little. Turning around to face her, he continued, "—_if_ we can persuade Gorlie to fix whatever's wrong with you that keeps you from getting pregnant. With the Power he's got, five'll get you ten he can do it."

"But what's the point? I'm not married anymore. And I don't see much hope of getting to the altar again before I _am_ too old to have kids."

"Don't lose hope, Didi. You never know what tomorrow will bring."

"I know what _Friday_ will bring: a fight to the death in the arena. I'm trying not to dwell on it—not for _my_ sake, but for _yours_. But I just can't stop thinking about it." Her eyes were filled with anxiety.

Cam stood with his balled fists resting on his hips and said, "I'm not gonna die in the arena, Didi, I promise you that. If I were to die . . . well, let's just say that what they might do to _you_ could be a fate _worse _than death, and I'm not about to let anything like _that_ happen." He walked back to where she was standing, lifted her chin with his right hand and gazed into her angst-filled eyes. "Not in a million years." At that moment, the door opened and Gor-lak strode in. Didi quickly pulled her chin out of Cam's hand and sat back down on her bed.

"Can't you knock once in a while?" Cam growled at the elder.

"What were you about to do to Miss Steadman?"

"Nothing. I was just trying to reassureher," Cam answered. "It's something we human males do when the females we care about are worried or frightened."

"Of what is she worried or frightened?"

"She's afraid I'll get killed or maimed in the arena."

"And you were trying to reassure her that such will not be the case," the Chak-tuk inferred. "Do you actually believe you have a chance of surviving your event?"

"Yeah, of course I do. Is there any reason why I shouldn't?"

"He obviously has something up his sleeve, Cam," Didi put in. "He's much too smug."

Cam looked at her and smiled engagingly. "You've got great observational skills, Didi," he told her. Then he turned his attention back to Gor-lak. "Many human women claim to have something they call 'feminine intuition.' Personally, I think it comes from being observant and figuring things out on a subconscious level. So far this evening, Didi's proven herself to be _very_ observant."

"You humans are a most perplexing species," said Gor-lak.

"Well, you know, you could always just send us home and uncomplicate your life. . . ."

Gor-lak shook his head. "That is not possible, Colonel. One day soon I will explain to you why. In the meantime, I have in this sack the items you requested." He handed the bag to Cam and added, "I have already provided your colleagues with pillows, blankets . . . and cots." Seeing the look of surprised delight on Cam's face, he continued, "Yes, I gave them something other than the floor mats to sleep on. I do hope they appreciate the effort."

"I'm sure they do. They'll probably sleep a lot better tonight than they have since we got here."

"I will build them a bathroom tomorrow morning. It will require much in the way of materials and effort, as well as a great deal of Power. I hope you appreciate the sacrifice I'll be making for them."

"I certainly do," said Cam, "and I'm sure _they_ will, as well."

"They had better," Gor-lak grumbled. Then he turned and left the duo alone once more.

Cam set the bag on the floor and sat down beside Didi. "So, what do you think he's hiding? What's he got up his sleeve?"

"I don't know. But if the others all fought Chak-tuk warriors . . . maybe _you won't_. Maybe your opponent will be something much more dangerous."

"That's a possibility. He seems pretty sure I won't win. He didn't come right out and _say_ it, but his attitude was clear enough."

"I agree, which is why I said he had something up his sleeve—and it wasn't just his _words_ that told me that. Even though I'm new here, I can already read their body language. That's one of the things I learned to do back in college—read body language. Their mouths are so different . . . smugness is hard to perceive from facial expression alone. His entire demeanor gave him away."

"So, since you believe that I'm probably going to go up against something really nasty, are you even more frightened than you were before?"

She looked into his eyes. "You could say that. I hate to be the reason that your life is in danger."

"You're _not_ the reason, Didi," Cam assured her. "The Chak-tuk and their stupid games are the reason. You're just . . . added incentive to win. I'd be forced to enter the arena whether I chose to fight or not. Chances are I'd be cut to ribbons where I stood if I _didn't_ fight. It has nothing to do with you. I'll fight and I'll win—it's as simple as that. All _you_ have to do is believe in me."

"I do believe you'll do your best, but . . . whether that will be enough . . . I'm just not sure. You may have all the self-confidence in the world, but I don't know you well enough yet to jump on that particular bandwagon. So, I'm a basket case right now. I feel like a giant ball of insecurity and angst, all wrapped up in a fragile package that just happens to look like a human female."

"I wish there was something more I could do to reassure you. I've said everything I can think of, but it really hasn't helped much, has it?"

She shook her head. "No, it hasn't. I wish it had. I wish with all my heart that I could believe we'll both be okay, but I've never seen the battles. And even if I had, we don't know what's in store for you. To me, it's just a great big question mark with a very black cloud behind it."

"Would a hug every now and then help?"

Didi smiled softly at him. "It might—as long as all it is _is_ a hug."

Cam smiled back at her. "It will be . . . unless and until you decide you want it otherwise. Now, why don't you go take a good, long soak in the tub? Maybe it'll help you relax a little."

Didi nodded. "Okay. Will you be all right out here by yourself?"

"Hey, I spent months in a hospital bed after I crashed my 302 in Antarctica. I was alone most of the time . . . and I couldn't move. At the moment, though, I wish I had a Gameboy or a ball and glove."

"Personally, I like to play Chuzzle on my cell phone," Didi said.

"Chuzzle?"

"It's a game full of colorful little fuzzy critters with big eyes. It's sort of like Bejeweled, but . . . never mind. I'm gonna go take my bath." She picked up the sack Cam had set on the floor and peeked inside. "Oh wow! Everything you asked for is in here! Yippee!" She pulled her share of the precious items from the bag, laid them on her bed, and handed the bag to Cam so that he could remove his possessions from it. She then took her items to the bathroom, set them on the counter by the sink, removed her pajamas and underwear from the second drawer, and took them to the bathroom, as well.

"I've decided," Cam called to her. "I _am_ gonna be lonely out here without you."

Didi paused in the bathroom doorway and smiled. "I'll try not to dawdle."

"Aw, what the hey? I told you to take a good long soak. . . ."

"I'll soak only as long as I need to." She paused. "Cam . . ."

"Yeah, Didi?"

"How old are _you_?"

Cam smiled and answered impishly, "No more than a handful of years older than you are."

Didi laughed. "I kinda figured you were about thirty-eight or thirty-nine—ballpark estimate."

"Too old?"

"No. Just right."

"I'm glad you approve. Now . . . go get in the tub."

"Yes, sir!" Didi snapped to something resembling attention and gave him a semi-salute; then she entered the bathroom and closed the door.

While she soaked in the tub, Didi's mind went over everything she'd learned since she'd awakened earlier in the day. Goa'uld, Ori, replicators, Tok'ra, Jaffa, Chak-tuk . . . the universe was _full_ of unusual people and creatures that, until now, she'd never even known existed. They were a part of the daily life of SG-1 and their fellows in Cheyenne Mountain. It was mind boggling. Yet they all seemed so . . . _calm_—even blasé—about it. Would _she_ ever feel that way? Would dealing with aliens become a regular thing for _her_ at some point, too? It certainly would if she were forced to remain here.

If she ever got back to Earth, though, she had no doubt the Powers That Be would make her sign a non-disclosure agreement. She might not ever be able to _forget_ what she was experiencing here, but she could certainly try to _put it behind her_—all except these three days she'd be spending alone with Cam.

Even if the faces of the other members of SG-1 slowly faded from memory, as long as she lived she would never forget Cameron Mitchell. From the moment he had first looked into her eyes, Didi knew that the beautiful blue of _his_ eyes and the tenderness they expressed would be etched in her mind forever. With that thought uppermost in her mind, she sat up and began to wash.

Meanwhile, Cam, too, was mulling things over in his mind. He couldn't help wondering how this whole scenario had come to pass. Of all the women on Earth that the Chak-tuk could've chosen to put in the arena with him, why Didi?

They were both from Kansas—and the same general area. So, why did they have to travel to an alien world light years from home just to meet each other? Was it Fate? Was it Karma? Was it . . . God?

He stood close to his bed, and, for the first time in several months, Cameron Mitchell looked upward and talked (quietly) to whoever might be listening. "God, if You're up there, and if this is Your doing, thanks. She's great. I promise I'll protect her and take good care of her."

Was it his imagination?—or did he just hear a voice inside his head say _"See that you do. You're all she has"_? If he really did hear it, then . . . what did it mean? _Didi has a loving family back in Kansas and a cousin in Colorado Springs who wants her to come and work for him,_ Cam thought._ So how could I—Cameron Mitchell—be all that she has? _It was puzzling. Cam didn't know what to make of it.

He flopped onto his bed and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He'd been so busy his entire adult life, advancing his career as a fighter pilot—and now as the leader of SG-1—that he hadn't had time to really search for that someone special he'd always felt was out there somewhere. He wanted what his parents had—all of it.

The more he got to know Didi, the more he came to believe that she really was the one he'd spent a lifetime looking for. But, depending on what Gor-lak planned to do with her following their event in the arena, he might not have a lot of time to convince _her _of that. They had maybe two and a half days left, depending on what time their event was scheduled to take place on Friday. Could he win Didi's heart in so short a time? He only knew he had to give it his best shot.

Having made that determination—and with little else of importance to contemplate—Cam started to become bored. If he'd had a basketball, he'd've been bouncing it off the walls—or the ceiling, which didn't even have any tiles with holes in them he could count. The walls and the ceiling of the room were completely seamless—except for the single air vent, located high in the wall near the door, and the utilitarian light fixture in the center of the ceiling.

The Chak-tuk had absolutely no imagination! If humans had the kind of Power the Chak-tuk elders had, they'd find ways to use it, all right! _Which is probably why we don't have it_. _God has more sense than that, _Cam thought.

What was with the Chak-tuk, anyway? With all of the technology they had developed—and the Power to do just about anything—why did they still derive so much pleasure from the whole Roman Coliseum scenario? Why hadn't they advanced beyond that archaic mindset? But then, was Earth all that different? The Roman Coliseum had been replaced by "reality TV." But it was the same general principle, wasn't it?

The bathroom door opened at that moment and Didi emerged. She was wearing pajamas of a goldenrod hue that appeared to be satin, but which were probably polyester. Her blond hair was a slightly darker shade now that it was wet. She had her towel draped across her shoulders to catch the drips.

"Too bad about the hairdryer," Cam commented. "Looks like you could use one right now."

Didi shook her head. "It's not that big a deal. When I have to go to bed with wet hair, I usually just pull it up behind me and lay it above my head on the pillow."

"Whatever works. I just hope you don't catch cold."

"Don't worry about it. By the time _you_ get out of the tub (or shower, whichever you prefer), it'll probably be half dry." She sat down on the edge of his bed and removed the towel from her shoulders, bending her head so she could dry the ends of her locks.

"Since I showered earlier, I think I'll soak a bit this time, too," said Cam.

"I rinsed the tub out for you, just in case."

"Thanks; I appreciate it."

"It's the strangest thing . . ."

"What?" Cam queried, as he removed his belongings from the sack.

"I could've sworn I painted my toenails last night after I ate dinner, but . . . look at my toes—not a trace of polish anywhere! And the polish I use is _not_ water soluble."

Cam picked up his pajamas from his bed and stood, with his bundle in his arms, looking at Didi's toes. "Maybe you just _thought_ you painted them last night," he said in a conciliatory tone. "It might've been something you'd _planned_ to do—and you had it on your mind so much, you actually thought you'd done it—but you never really did."

"Maybe . . ." Didi said, sounding unconvinced.

"Anyway, if your toenails _were_ painted, why didn't you notice the difference before? You've been wearing sandals all day."

"I was distracted. Waking up here, meeting all of you, seeing the Chak-tuk for the first time . . . everything that's happened has been pretty overwhelming. I wasn't that concerned about my toenails. But, while I was in the tub and looking at my feet, I noticed . . . they're bare, and they shouldn't be."

"So, if you're sure you painted them, what's the explanation?"

Didi shook her head. "I don't know; I'm just puzzled. But you could be right: I might not have painted them after all. I could've sworn I did, though . . . really."

"Well, I wouldn't lose any sleep over it. It's not like your hair fell out, or anything."

"True. Maybe everything that's happened has just rattled me a little. But I should be okay. I just need to try to accept what _is_, and stop being so suspicious of everything."

"Are you suspicious of _me_?" Cam asked with a soft smile of irony on his face.

Didi shook her head. "No, not at all. I firmly believe that you and the others are all trustworthy people. You're a close-knit group—almost like a second family to each other. You rely on and help one another. That's a really great thing. I wish _I_ were a part of something like that—outside of my family, I mean."

"You are now, Didi," Cam told her. "You know about the Stargate. Only a small percentage of the earth's population is even aware of its existence. On top of that, you've become a part of the inner circle. SG-1 is the elite, and I'm making you an honorary member." He smiled at her again.

She smiled back. "Thanks, Cam. Even being an _honorary_ member is a privilege."

"When we get back to Earth, I'll even get you a patch or two. Of course, you'll never be able to wear them in public. . . ."

She laughed. "Go take your bath. It's getting late."

"Yes, ma'am." Cam returned the mock salute she'd given him earlier and dutifully entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Didi walked around and put her dirty clothes in the corner nearest her bed, then returned to the dresser and laid her towel across the top of it to dry. She didn't think it was wet enough to damage the finish.

She climbed over Cam's bed and onto her own, propped her pillow up against the wall and leaned against it, stretching her legs out in front of her. She then pulled her hair up and back behind her and spread it across the top edge of the pillow. She closed her eyes. It was time for more introspection.

She really did trust Cam. Somehow she knew that she could—that he would never intentionally do anything to hurt her. In fact, she knew he'd do everything in his power to _prevent_ her from being hurt by anyone or anything. He was exactly the kind of man her romantic heart had always longed for.

She had been so young when she and Tad had decided they wanted to spend their lives together. He was the only young man with whom she had ever really had any kind of a relationship. It'd never so much as occurred to her that there might be someone else out there who would be a better match for her: someone who'd love her enough to stay with her, despite her inability to have children; someone who'd be willing to _adopt_ children . . . or do whatever else was possible or necessary, so that they could have a family together.

Because of the things he'd said earlier, she was certain that Cam was that kind of man. If only they'd met sooner . . . .

As she pictured his face in her mind, a memory from long ago presented itself. It was a newspaper photograph of a high school quarterback who'd made the Kansas All-State Football Team. He was from Auburn and his name was . . . _Cameron Mitchell_!

Didi's eyes opened wide and so did the bathroom door. Cam came out, wearing cotton pajamas with vertical stripes of teal, chocolate brown, white and maroon. He was vigorously drying his hair with his towel . . . _and he was clean-shaven_! Without the five days' growth of beard, he was incredibly handsome—even more than he was way back when.

"You okay?" he asked Didi. "You look like something . . . startled you."

"It did," she replied. "I just remembered having seen you before today—sort of."

"Oh, really? Where and when?"

"The sports page of every newspaper in Topeka, back in '86. I had the biggest crush on you. . . ."

Cam laughed. "Yeah, a lot of girls did. Some of 'em I knew about; most I didn't."

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you when we first met this afternoon!" She paused momentarily. "But, then . . . it _was_ twenty-two years ago, and I was only twelve at the time. . . . And the newspaper photographs really didn't do you justice. . . ."

"So, how long did this crush of yours last?" Cam queried, a look of bemusement on his face.

"Not long. When football season ended, so did my crush. There were no more newspaper photographs to drool over on a weekly basis; no more games for you to win . . . . so I moved on. I very much doubt, though, that you would've cared one iota about the short-lived crush of a skinny little twelve-year-old from Topeka if you had known about it. . . ."

"That was a long time ago. You're not 'a skinny little twelve-year-old' anymore . . . far from it."

Didi wasn't sure what to say to that, if anything at all. She could've told him that he was even more handsome now than he'd been in high school, but since they'd only met a few hours ago, she thought it was a little too soon to get that personal.

Prompted by her silence—and with a look of concern on his face—Cam asked, "Is the fact that you know who I am now going to affect the interaction between us?"

Didi shook her head. "No, I just . . . It caught me by surprise, that's all. And I'm really tired, too. It's been a long, eventful—one might even say a rather _traumatic_—day. I think my brain and my emotions have both been overloaded. Realizing that you're the same Cameron Mitchell that I had a crush on (albeit from afar) twenty-two years ago was enough of a shock to my already overtaxed psyche that I'm feeling kind of out of it right now."

Cam nodded. "I understand. I felt the same way the day I first found out about the Stargate. I'd never really believed in alien abductions, or UFO sightings or any of that . . . _crap_, as I thought of it. Imagine my surprise when I found out it was all real!—well, most of it anyway. There're still a few people out there who're crackpots; there always will be. But the point is, I know how you feel.

"So," he continued, "how about we call it a night and spend most of tomorrow in more question-and-answer sessions? I don't know about you, but . . . I'd kinda like to find out more about the woman whose life I'm going to be protecting."

"And I'd like to know more about the man with whom I'm _entrusting_ my life."

"Maybe we should just ask Gor-lak to let us view each other's memory archives," Cam teased.

"Not on your life! There're probably things in mine even _I_ wouldn't want to see."

"I was joking, Didi. You really _do_ need to get to know me better. And you need to loosen up a little more. I know it's kind of hard under the circumstances, but being tightly wound for the three days we're going to be alone in here before they take us to the arena for our event is just going to make life harder all around." He wandered back into the bathroom and threw his towel over the bar holding the shower curtain. "Maybe we should have another pillow fight or something."

"Or something . . . maybe. But it has to be spontaneous or it won't work."

"True enough," Cam averred, coming back out of the bathroom and climbing onto his bed. "In the meantime . . . if, for whatever reason, you feel inclined to dream about me tonight, you have my permission to do so."

Didi looked over at him and smiled. "I'd certainly rather dream about _you_ than about _Gor-lak_."

Cam shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Oh, for crying out loud! Do you have any idea what you just did? My first night here, I did nothing but dream about Gor-lak and that butt-ugly face of his! Every night after that, I relived the battles my colleagues fought in the arena. I was hoping that, just this once, I could dream about something _pleasant_. But you had to go and ruin it by mentioning _Gor-lak_!"

"I'm sorry. I was trying to be . . . amusing. I didn't know."

"No, I guess you didn't," Cam admitted, slightly mollified.

"If it would help, I could try singing you to sleep. . . . It always works with my nieces and nephews when I'm babysitting. . . ."

Cam nodded. "If you've got a good voice, I think I'd like that."

"I do," she said defensively. "I want to turn off the lights first, though: I'd rather sing in the dark. It makes me feel a little less . . . out there. So, where's the light switch?"

"It's over by the door. I don't know about this one, but Gor-lak made the one in the other room voice-activated and it responds to a short command in English."

"And what command would that be?"

"'Lights out,'" Cam said quietly.

"Lights out!" Didi repeated loudly.

Instantly, the room went dark. Didi smiled, climbed between her sheets and said, "Good night, Colonel Cameron Mitchell, quarterback and Air Force pilot extraordinaire!"

"Good night, Didina Steadman . . . whom I really wish I knew more about. I'm glad I met you."

"Me too."

"So, when does the concert begin?"

"Give me a sec. I have to prepare myself. This is a new experience for me."

"Take all the time you need: I'm not going anywhere."

Didi took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Okay. I think I'm about ready."

"I know I said this before, but you're a darned good sport, Didi."

"Tad said the same thing to me the day I signed the divorce papers."

"I swear, if I ever meet that man—"

"You won't. He moved to Oklahoma City last year."

"Good. I'd hate for you to see the kind of man I can be when I _really_ dislike someone."

"Did you ever put a dent in a locker door?"

"Once or twice. Why?"

"My brother, Mike, did that back in high school when his girlfriend dumped him for a jock. He's a serious musician—and a darned good one, too. Jennifer broke his heart. For a few years after that, all he wrote were sad love songs—'til he met Ashley, his wife."

"If your brother was a _musician_ and hit his locker door hard enough to put a dent in it, he must've been _really_ pi . . . uh . . . angry."

"Thank you, Cam," Didi said with a slight chuckle.

"For what?"

"For censoring yourself. Most guys don't bother these days, 'cause most women don't care."

"If there's one significant thing I've learned about you today, Didina Steadman, it's that you're _not_ like most women. I guess that's why I like you so much."

"Again, thank you. I like you, too."

"That's good to know. It's important that we . . . _like_ each other."

Didi was bright enough to understand the nuance of his pausing before saying—and then emphasizing—the word _like_. However, she wasn't ready to go there just yet.

She smiled softly in the darkness nonetheless and began to sing.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5: WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, PT. 1

When Cam awakened the next morning, he could hear Didi's soft, rhythmic breathing. He sat up, smiled, and looked in her direction. There was no window in the room, so it was still pitch black, but the light on his wristwatch allowed him to see that it was 7:08 a.m., Planet Max Standard Time.

He leaned back against the wall and thought about the night before, when Didi had sung him to sleep. The surprising thing was that it had actually worked.

She had started with the two lullabies from _Mary Poppins_: "Stay Awake" and "Feed the Birds." She was no Julie Andrews—who was?—but the songs were simple and well within Didi's vocal range. She had then moved on to "Brahms' Lullaby." Cam had started drifting off in the middle of that one. He wondered if she'd been aware that he'd fallen asleep, or if she had continued singing awhile longer. But, the more he thought about it, the more he seemed to remember that she'd sung another two or three songs. If she had, it was probably because she wanted to be certain that he was deeply asleep before quitting, so that he wouldn't wake up again once the singing stopped.

She had so much talent, so much to give . . . and no one to give it to.

Cam threw off his covers, got out of bed and—keeping the light on his wristwatch activated—he walked over to where Didi lay sleeping. He knelt on the floor beside her bed and gazed at her. Even with the minuscule illumination provided by his watch he could see her outline and discern the beautiful yellow blond of her hair. She was lying on her side, facing him. He wanted to touch her, to caress her cheek or gently brush her hair back from her face. _Darned if he wasn't falling in love with the girl already!_ Overcome with emotion, he whispered, "Didi," lowered his head and tenderly kissed her cheek.

Didi stirred. "Hmmm?" she asked groggily.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Didi's eyes fluttered and slowly opened. "Cam?" she asked quietly. "What time is it?"

Cam looked at his watch. "It's about seven-twenty."

"Oh! I guess now's as good a time as any to get up." She still sounded a bit groggy. "Lights—"

"Let me," said Cam. "But close your eyes. It'll be a bit of a shock when they first come on."

"'Kay," she replied, closing her eyes and covering them with her fingers.

"Lights on," Cam commanded. The lights came on simultaneously in both the main room and the bathroom. Cam deactivated the light on his wristwatch.

Didi took her hands from her eyes and slowly opened them. "I wish it had a dimmer switch!"

"I wonder . . . ." Cam muttered. "Dim lights by seventy percent," he called out. The intensity of the lights dimmed instantly, going from the equivalent of what Cam estimated as two 100 watt light bulbs to that of one 60 watt bulb. "Cool!" he said, smiling.

"Oh, that's much better!" said Didi. "Thanks, Cam."

"You're welcome." He sat down on the edge of her bed. "How're you feeling this morning?"

"Well, I'm still here and I'm still sane, so . . . okay, I guess."

"We should probably get dressed. They usually deliver breakfast at around eight."

"You've been awake longer, so you get dressed first. I need a little more time to get the cobwebs out of my brain. Just let me use the toilet really quick, and then you can have the bathroom for as long as you want it."

Cam nodded. "Okay. Go ahead."

While Didi was in the bathroom, Cam got his clean clothes out of the dresser and sat on the edge of his bed to wait. Didi was out in less than two minutes.

"There!" she said when she emerged. "It's all yours."

"I'll try not to be too long. At least I don't have to shave, since I did it last night."

"Take as long as you need. I always say my prayers before I get dressed, anyway. I say them before I go to bed every night, too. God's always been there when I've needed Him—even though, sometimes, I haven't realized it until after the fact."

"Was he there for you when your marriage broke up?"

"Especially then. And I have a feeling He'll be there for me on Friday, too."

"So . . . you're not scared anymore?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no . . . a little _anxious_ maybe, but not scared. I just have a really strong feeling that everything's going to be okay." She smiled.

Cam smiled softly back at her. "I'm glad," he said. "I wish _I_ had that kind of faith. My grandma did. She tried to instill some in me, but," he shook his head, "it didn't take as well as it should have."

"Maybe I can help you with that."

"Maybe you can." He paused. "I'll be out in about, oh, five minutes, give or take."

Didi nodded. "See you in a few." Once Cam had shut the bathroom door, Didi returned to her bedside, knelt down and prayed. It was a lengthier prayer than usual, which was to be expected under the circumstances. She expressed gratitude for being alive, for having friends and family back on Earth who cared about her and for the new friends she had just met—especially Cam, with his determination to protect her. Then she asked the Lord to bless all of them—again, especially Cam. She prayed that he'd have the strength and ability necessary to do what needed to be done when the time came.

After ending her prayer, she stood up, went to the dresser, and took out her clean clothes. She looked at the M&M shirt and sighed. _Stupid thing! Why couldn't Gor-lak have brought her a plain old pocket T?—or one with an Oriental design?_ She had several of those.

She sat on the edge of Cam's bed and waited. The door opened almost immediately, and when he exited the bathroom, his eyes went directly to her. "Your turn," he said in that sexy, husky voice that always got her undivided attention.

"Thanks, Flyboy," she said with an impish smile as she stood up and headed for the bathroom.

"Don't start with me, Didi," he said, swatting her behind as she passed him.

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him in surprise. "How _could_ you . . .?"

"That's for last night. You might've used your shirt, but you still hit my backside, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever; any excuse." She entered the bathroom, stuck her tongue out at him, and closed the door.

"_Any excuse," she'd said. Was she right?_ Cam smiled a sardonically twisted smile and nodded to himself. _Yeah, she was right. _It was all he could do to refrain from taking her in his arms and kissing her 'til she couldn't breathe. She was intelligent, she was good-natured and she was darned attractive. . . . But, right now, above all, she was _vulnerable_. And Col. Cameron Mitchell was _not_ the kind of man who would take advantage of a vulnerable woman. Patience was required. Time was required. Unfortunately, Cam didn't have a great deal of either.

_Hold your horses, _he said to himself._ Keep your passions in check 'til the proper time._ He only hoped that the "proper time" would come and that Gor-lak wouldn't be perverse enough to take Didi from him after the event was over.

If it became necessary, though, he might be able to prevent it. He knew what had to be done, but he couldn't do it without preparing Didi first. She had to be told . . . but not yet—not until Friday, before the event.

The bathroom door opened and Didi stepped out, dressed in her M&M T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. Her hair was smooth and silky from being brushed and her face glowed. She looked truly radiant.

"Cam, why are you staring at me?" she queried, as she moved to put her pajamas away in her dresser drawer.

Cam shook himself mentally and said, "Sorry. I was just thinking how ra . . . how really _happy_ you look this morning."

"I guess I _am_ happy, in a way, though I don't know why I _should_ be," she said, shaking her head. "I mean, here I am, imprisoned on an alien planet and left alone with a man I just barely met, with whom I'm going to be facing mortal danger in a couple of days. . . . What do I have to be happy about? But I am! I'm _so happy_ just to be alive. I haven't felt this way in a really long time."

Cam smiled and gazed warmly into her eyes. "I'm glad. Is there any chance—despite the fact that we 'just barely met'—that I might have a little something to do with that?"

She nodded. "There is."

She didn't elaborate; she wouldn't—not yet, anyway. And Cam hadn't expected her to.

"So," she said, sidling past him, "why don't we make our beds while we're waiting for breakfast?"

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, setting to work.

Despite his resolution to be patient and take his time with Didi, Cam was a little bit disappointed. He had hoped for something more . . . _encouraging_ from her. Maybe he was expecting too much too soon, or maybe she just needed to be sure of _him _before she would respond the way he wanted her to.

He reminded himself that she'd been married before and had been badly hurt by someone she'd loved and trusted. She wasn't about to put herself through that kind of heartache again. But she wasn't afraid of the future anymore. She was at peace and that peace gave her patience. Cam wished _he_ could have a taste of that patience. He was a man of action. Waiting had never been his strong suit.

By the time these ruminations had ended, Cam's bed was made, and, to his credit, it looked better than Didi's did.

"Wow!" she commented. "Hospital corners! I never have learned how to do those. Guess I've found at least_ one _thing that flyboys do better." She smiled and winked at him.

"Lady," Cam said in a low, husky voice, "you are _so_ asking for it."

Fortunately for Didi, the door opened at that moment and Gor-lak arrived, along with the servant bringing breakfast. The food looked like it had come from IHOP or Denny's. Didi's eyes flew open and her mouth began to water. "Oh, it all looks _so_ good!" She sat down on the edge of her bed and dug in.

"Yes, it does look good," said Cam. He sat down next to Didi and poured maple syrup on a stack of pancakes. Then he looked around at everything that was on the cart. "What? No coffee?"

"That particular beverage is problematical," said Gor-lak. "Even were we to bring you some that was made exactly the way you prefer it—black, with two sugars—we could not guarantee that you would enjoy it. On Earth you were often served coffee that was made just as you requested, yet you still considered it . . . 'disgusting,' I believe was the word you used. Thus, we brought you orange juice instead."

"Orange juice is great," said Cam, "but it doesn't have any _caffeine_ in it."

"Since you will be spending three days alone in this room with Miss Steadman, you should not need the caffeine. Her companionship should be sufficient stimulation for a man such as yourself."

"True enough. But could I have some on the day of our event? I could sure use it then."

"The use of such things is not permitted to any warrior before his entrance into the arena. I explained that to your companions previous to their events."

"Oh yeah," Cam sighed. "I forgot. Guess I'm gonna have to go in clean, then."

"It seems so," Didi commented. She'd been watching and listening to the proceedings with great amusement. "When the time comes, you'll just have to settle for an _adrenaline_ high."

"I do not believe that will be a problem," said Gor-lak. "The opponent Colonel Mitchell will be facing is bound to raise his adrenaline levels to new heights."

"I don't know about that, Gor-lak. If you've really searched my memory archives, then you have an idea of the kinds of creatures I've gone up against over the past few years. I doubt very much that any Chak-tuk warrior could raise my adrenaline levels higher than Morgan LeFey's dragon did."

Gor-lak got that strange look that seemed to be the Chak-tuk equivalent of "smug" and then told Cam, "I never said you would be facing a Chak-tuk warrior, Colonel Mitchell. Your opponent will be far more formidable than that."

"What? What am I going up against?" Cam asked, curious . . . and just a little nervous.

Gor-lak came as close to smiling as a Chak-tuk could and replied, "You will just have to wait and see. If I were to tell you, it would spoil the surprise."

"You're mad at me for asking for so much stuff, aren't you?" Cam deduced.

"A tad annoyed perhaps, but certainly not angry."

"Then why? Jackson and Teal'c both fought Chak-tuk warriors, and they had Carter and Vala to help them (even though they weren't supposed to). Miss Steadman is _not_ going to be able to help me and wouldn't if she could. So why do I have to face a more difficult opponent than the other guys did?"

"It is the opinion of both the organizing committee and that of many highly-influential members of the viewing audience that the events featuring Dr. Jackson and Teal'c fell somewhat short of expectations. The fact that Colonel Carter and Miss Mal Doran participated was, of course, the reason cited. Although these individuals have been informed that the female who will be entering the arena with you is _not_ a fighter and will not participate in any way, I have been unable to convince them that 'cheating' will not occur again. They have, therefore, demanded that the stakes be raised."

"How high?"

"As I said before, if I tell you, it would spoil the surprise. I merely came to inform you of the fact that you would _not _be facing a Chak-tuk warrior. If you believe in a Divine Creator, I suggest you spend some time over the next two days _pleading for your life_." Leaving that ominous statement hanging in the air, the Chak-tuk elder turned and departed.

"Well," Cam said quietly, looking at Didi pensively. "I wonder what they're gonna throw at me."

Didi looked determinedly back at him. "Whatever it is, you'll be able to defeat it, Cam; I _know_ it. Gor-lak's words notwithstanding, I still have a feeling of peace—that everything's going to be all right."

"Still, it probably wouldn't hurt for me to take his advice and pray a little," said Cam. He paused before confessing, "I don't do that a lot. Maybe it's time I started."

"Maybe it is. I don't know how much faith you have, Cam, or who or what you believe in. But _I_ believe in _God_ and I believe in _you._ And I _know_ you'll win on Friday. There's not a doubt in my mind, and I don't want there to be any doubt in _your_ mind, either. Anyway, Friday's my birthday, remember? You're supposed to win in the arena as a birthday present to me."

For the first time in several minutes, Cam smiled. "That's right. I promised you that. And, Miss Steadman, I always keep my promises. . . . So, now that that's settled, I guess I'd better get on with the business of eating breakfast. It looks like _you're _about done."

"I didn't spend five minutes arguing with Gor-lak about coffee."

"Gor-lak hasn't given us coffee in all the time we've been here. I was kind of hoping that, if _you_ wanted it, he'd give in and let _me_ have some, too." Cam shrugged. "It was worth a shot, anyway."

"Sorry, but I don't do coffee. I have problems with caffeine, and I don't like it well enough to bother drinking decaf."

Cam nodded. "Fair enough. _I_ sure do miss it, though." That said, he began eating in earnest.

There was more food on the cart than the two were able to consume, but that was usual for a full IHOP meal or a Denny's Grand Slam Breakfast. The food was delicious, however, and they were both well satisfied by the time they'd eaten their fill.

Cam pushed the cart away and said, "Man, I seriously need to go for a jog! I'd like to be able to work off some of that breakfast." He then rose to his feet and added, "I'm used to getting at least _some_ exercise every day, even if only on the job when I'm running from really bad people or overtly hostile aliens. I've been locked up for over _six days_ without doing anything more strenuous than walking back and forth down the hall."

"Six days isn't all that much. . . ." Didi opined.

"It may not sound like much to you, but it's easier to get _out _of shape than it is to get back _into _it. I like to work out as much as I can, so that I'm toned and ready for whatever I have to face."

Didi looked pensive and then said, "Why don't we push both of our beds over against the dresser? Then you'll have some space on _this_ side of the room in which to do some calisthenics, or whatever. Jog in place, do push-ups, crunches . . ."

"That's not a bad idea. But I think I'll wait until the cart's gone and my stomach has had time to settle. It's not wise to exercise on a full stomach."

"Well then, let's start on the question-and-answer session to pass the time."

"Okay. You start."

"I've wanted to ask this question since yesterday: why did you join the Air Force?"

"My dad was a test pilot. He lost his legs. I guess I just wanted to pick up where he left off."

"He must be very proud of you."

"Yeah, except he doesn't know what I actually do. The SGC is a top secret facility, and the work we do even _more_ so. Knowledge of the program is highly restricted—even in Government circles."

"That must be hard—not having anyone close to you that you can share it all with."

Cam nodded and sat back down. "Sometimes. But, after you move to Colorado Springs—since you're already 'in the know'—I could always come visit and talk to _you _about it. . . ."

"I'd like that," Didi said, also nodding. "Now, it's _your_ turn to ask _me_ a question."

"Right. Um . . . What's your favorite sport?"

Didi smiled a little. "My favorite sport is football, although I can sit through and watch just about anything—the only exceptions being NASCAR, professional wrestling and boxing."

"What have you got against those three things?"

Didi shrugged. "I think they're pretty much pointless . . . as sports, I mean. I know guys have an innate need to prove their prowess at something, and some of them are really awesome drivers; some are tough and can really kick . . . derrière. But to just sit and watch a bunch of guys drive around and around in circles—or to watch two men trying to beat the crap out of each other—just doesn't appeal to me."

"You'd rather watch golf and bowling?" Cam asked with amusement.

"People don't get killed or beaten to a pulp playing golf or bowling," Didi stated.

"They do in football from time to time," Cam pointed out. "As you know, I used to play, and I often got hurt . . . badly."

"It's a rough sport, so it's bound to happen. But the _good_ thing about football—in fact, about _any_ team sport—is that the players either learn to work together for the good of the whole, or they end up losing. The saying _There is no 'I' in team_—however trite—is absolutely true. No team can win on the merits of a single player, no matter who he is or how good he is at what he does. Being part of a team, by its very nature, requires working together."

"Amen! I wish a few more of the prima donnas in pro sports would get that through their thick heads."

The door opened then and the servant came to remove the cart. Curious, he picked up a slice of toast and tasted it. Making a face that appeared to be one of disgust, he spat it out, looked at the duo on the bed and shook his head as if to indicate that they were crazy and then left the room with the cart.

After the door closed behind the servant, Didi giggled and Cam roared with laughter. "Now _that_ was entertaining," he said. "The look on his face . . . priceless!"

"If he thinks _toast_ is disgusting, I wonder _Chak-tuk_ food is like," said Didi.

"I don't even wanna contemplate that, so let's move on. What's your next question for me?"

"Which do you like better: flying or going through the Stargate?"

"Stargate, hands down. Flying was the thrill of my life before I found out the Stargate existed. From the time I first heard about it, there was nothing I wanted more than to go through the 'gate and explore alien worlds. But, even though I'd read most of SG-1's mission reports, I still wasn't fully prepared for what I was up against."

"Mind boggling, huh?"

"Terrifying, actually—a lot of it, anyway. When you know the fate of the entire planet is at stake, you can't help but get into something of a panic, wondering if you're gonna be able to pull our collective fat out of the fire. SG-1 did it _so_ many times under then-Colonel, now General O'Neill's leadership that I wondered—after he told me I could have command of SG-1—whether I had what it took to fill his shoes. Even now I'm not sure I do. If it weren't for Carter, Jackson and Teal'c, I'd've been one lost puppy."

Didi smiled. "You might've _felt_ that way. But you wouldn't still be here if you hadn't been prepared for what you faced. Even in the direst of circumstances, you kept your head. That's what matters."

"You are _so_ good for my ego."

"I'm trying to help build your _self-esteem_, **not** your ego."

"I thought _you_ were the one with the self-esteem problem. . . ."

"I was. But you've pretty much cured me—you and . . . God."

"It was what I said last night—about your having worth and value as an individual whether you can have kids or not, wasn't it?"

Didi shook her head. "It wasn't so much _what_ you said as it was the fact that it was _you_ who said it."

Cam's brow furrowed. "What . . .? Why?"

"When Tad first told me he was divorcing me because I couldn't have kids, my self-esteem nosedived. For months I wallowed in self-pity. And, although my friends and family said pretty much the same things to me that you did last night, it didn't help. It's the _job_ of friends and family to try to make you feel better when you're low and depressed. Although I knew they all loved me, I was too far down to be uplifted by what I thought were nothing more than well-meaning platitudes. But, coming from _you_—a man that I respect and admire but barely know—it finally sunk in: I am an individual of value and worth."

"I'm glad I could help, but . . . if you've always had such faith in God and believed He was watching over you and helping you, why didn't _that_ give you more self-esteem than you had?"

"Because sometimes God's love alone isn't enough. As much as we might not want to, most of us place value on what other people think of us. Family and friends who know us intimately and love us unconditionally don't count. The views of those who are acquainted with us but who don't know us well seem to carry more weight because they have little to gain or to lose by expressing those views to us."

"Okay, so that's how _I_ helped—by being an outsider with a good opinion of you. But what about God? You said _He_ helped cure you, too."

"Yes, because I know He's aware of me and is still watching over me—even here, on this alien world. In fact, I have a strong feeling that I'm here for a reason—and not just to go into the arena with you."

"You mean, you think God has something to do with your being here?"

Didi nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Why?" Cam queried. "It was the _Chak-tuk_ who brought you here. . . ."

Didi looked at him sharply. "The Chak-tuk _brought_ me here, yes. But why _me_? Out of all the women in the world—on Earth—that they could've chosen, why _me_? _That_, I believe, _was_ God's doing."

_Was it?_ Cam had been wondering that, too—which is what had led him to pray for the first time in ages the night before. _Could God have really had Didi brought here for some higher purpose?_

"Cam?" Didi queried, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Sorry," Cam said, getting to his feet and pacing a little, while rubbing his lower lip with the edge of his thumb. "I was just thinking about everything—about God, about you . . . what reasons there could be for all of this. If God _is_ responsible for your being here, then . . . _why_? _Why _does He want you here?"

Didi stood up, too, shaking her head. "I don't have all the answers, Cam. I only know that God does have a reason; eventually we'll find out what it is. But, for the time being, I'm content to know that He's aware of us, and He's promised me that we'll be safe—that we'll survive our event in the arena and come out alive."

"Then I guess I have to either trust in you the same way I've asked you to trust in me, or I have to come to the conclusion that you're completely delusional . . . and I won't believe _that_ for a minute. My grandma used to say that God told _her_ things from time to time, too. She was a real zealot and a Bible thumper. I always thought she was a little—"

"Over the top?"

"Yeah. But you're not like that. Your faith is . . . quieter—more personal."

Didi smiled softly. "I guess maybe it is. I've known a few Bible thumpers myself; they can be scary sometimes—a real turn-off to people who aren't believers. Thing is, people who don't have much faith tend to think that those who do are fanatics—especially the ones who are loud and vocal about it."

"True, but still . . . maybe I should've paid more attention to the things Grandma tried to tell me."

"Does that mean you believe me, then?"

"Yeah, it does. And I'm glad to know God's on our side, 'cause Gor-lak sure isn't."

Didi shook her head. "No, he's not. His only agenda seems to be making the games as interesting and exciting as possible."

"And we're the main event."

"Us, and whatever it is you're going to be facing."

"Speaking of which . . . I need to get into shape. It's time we pushed the beds to the back of the room. I think my breakfast has settled sufficiently that I can do a little bit of exercising now."

"All right, then. Let's do it."

They climbed over Didi's bed and shoved Cam's against the dresser. Then they climbed back over Didi's bed to the other side and pushed it against Cam's bed. "Hm, not bad," said Cam. "I believe there may be just enough room. . . ."

With one quick fluid movement, Cam removed his T-shirt and tossed it carelessly onto the foot of Didi's bed. "Oh, wow!" Didi breathed.

Cam looked at her with an amused expression. "You like what you see?"

"Um-hm," she acknowledged, nodding.

"You're acting as though you've never seen a man's bare chest before."

"No, no; it isn't that. There are plenty of guys who run around shirtless in Topeka, particularly during the summertime. It's just . . . you are a fine specimen of a healthy American male."

"'A fine specimen'? You make me sound like something in a Petri dish."

"Actually," said Didi, "with the entire sentence taken in context, it would more likely be used by an anthropologist."

"Maybe, but an anthropologist would probably use it to describe Arnold Schwarzenegger, not me."

Didi clicked her tongue, rolled her eyes and declared, "Oh, please! Arnold Schwarzenegger isn't a native-born American. And too much muscle is grotesque!"

Cam chuckled. "You think so, huh?"

"Yes, I do. As far as I'm concerned, your physique, Colonel Mitchell, is absolute perfection."

"And the hair doesn't bother you?"

"No, not at all. It's actually kind of intriguing the way it grows in the shape of a tree. . . ."

Cam chuckled again. "A tree?" He looked down at himself. "I never noticed." He then looked at Didi again. "May I infer from your close scrutiny of my chest that Tad didn't have any hair on his?"

Didi shook her head. "Not a single one."

"Hm," Cam grunted in acknowledgement. He then pushed some buttons on his wristwatch and dropped to the floor.

Didi climbed onto her bed to get out of his way and watched as he went through a rigorous exercise routine. After what she guessed to be about half an hour, Cam's watch beeped. He stopped what he was doing—his fourth set of twenty push-ups—and shut off the timer alarm.

"Whew!" he said, dropping onto his back on Didi's bed. "I'd rather jog."

"Why don't you go get your towel from the bathroom and wipe off the sweat?" Didi suggested.

Cam nodded. "Good idea—soon as I can get back on my feet again."

"On second thought, maybe you _shouldn't_ use your towel. You're gonna need it again when you shower." She climbed off the bed and went to the corner where she'd tossed her V-neck shirt, picked it up and gave it to him. "Here . . . use this."

He sat up and looked at her. "You sure about this?"

She shrugged. "It's gotta be laundered anyway, so what's the big deal? It's just sweat."

He smiled and began to wipe himself off. "You are the most understanding woman I have ever met—especially for one whose brother is a musician and not a jock."

"My dad was a jock. He still likes to work out—has a home gym in the family room."

"Cool! You think maybe he'd let me try it out sometime?—that is, if we ever get back to Earth and if I ever get a chance to meet your parents . . . which I'd really like to do, by the way."

"I'm sure he would. He loves to show it off to visitors."

Cam was through wiping himself off. "Want me to toss this back into the corner?" he asked.

Didi nodded. "That's fine."

After doing that, Cam said, "Let's move the beds back before I take my shower. I don't wanna get all sweaty again once I'm clean."

It took a little bit longer to move them back into position than it had taken to merely shove them to the back of the room. But since the floor of the room was mat material, the imprints of the casters were deep, and it wasn't hard to tell where they were supposed to go.

Once the job was done, Cam grabbed his T-shirt from Didi's bed, winked at her and said, "I'll be out soon. Try not to miss me too much."

She smiled at him as he turned and walked into the bathroom. But once the door was closed, she sat down heavily on her bed and sighed.


	6. Chapter 6

_**(Disclaimer: In this chapter, all song lyrics belong to their respective owners and publishers.)**_

CHAPTER 6: WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, PT. 2

Didi was beginning to wish Cam hadn't asked Gor-lak for three days. It was becoming increasingly difficult with each passing hour to remain resolute in her decision to keep her emotions in check. She'd been living alone for some time now, and most of the men her friends and family had lined her up with were not, to put it nicely, prime candidates for a second husband. Cam, on the other hand . . .

She sighed again. She had no business feeling like this so soon. She was innately romantic, and it had been a problem for her throughout her formative years. After she'd married Tad, however, it had been tamed to some degree. Tad had enjoyed _playing_ the romantic, even though he really _wasn't _one.

He'd enjoyed bringing her flowers and candy on Valentine's Day and their wedding anniversary, and buying her expensive presents for Christmas and her birthday. He had simply done what he thought would please her and appeal to her romantic nature. It had been wonderful . . . for as long as it had lasted.

After the divorce, disappointment and disillusionment had been heaped upon heartache, and Didi had fallen into despair. When she had reached the point where she felt she couldn't go on, she had cried out to God in anguish one last time, _"Why?"_

A quiet voice had come into her mind and said, _"Because Tad has his agency and you were a victim of it. It's time to move on."_

Then she understood that she, too, had her agency: she could choose to wallow in self-pity for the rest of her life; she could commit suicide and hope that that would put an end to the pain (which, believing as she did in an afterlife, she was pretty certain wasn't likely to happen); or she could pick herself up by her bootstraps and get on with her life. She had chosen the latter.

Since then she had been a working stiff, like so many other divorcees and never-marrieds of various ages and backgrounds. It hadn't been a _bad_ life. She'd made a decent living, met a lot of interesting people, and had gone out with a variety of men.

In all that time, however, she had never met a man with whom she felt she could happily spend the rest of her life . . . until now.

Cameron Mitchell was everything she'd ever dreamed of or hoped for—the kind of man she had been praying to meet ever since the day she had chosen to get on with her life. Tears came to her eyes. Her heart was reaching out to him. It wanted to love him. But her mind was saying, _"No, it's too soon."_ On top of that, she thought he was _much_ too special a person for the likes of her. He was . . . a hero. . . . He was . . . important. She was . . . a nobody. Why was he even **bothering** with her? Could he actually be interested in her? She doubted it. He was just being nice and was worried that this whole experience might be too much for her. He was trying to keep her calm. But being alone together like this was _not_ the best way to accomplish that.

She turned to face the bare wall by the door and wiped away the tears with the hem of her pillowcase. Cam would be coming out of the bathroom any minute now. She didn't want him to see that she'd been crying. She'd done a little acting back in high school. If she'd ever needed to draw on that ability in her life, it was now. She sat up, took a deep breath, tried to think happy thoughts and decided to sing. That was the one thing that always managed to cheer her up.

By the time Cam exited the bathroom—drying his hair and fully dressed—Didi was in the middle of singing "Honey Bun" from _South Pacific_. Taken by surprise, Cam draped his towel around his shoulders, leaned against the doorpost, and watched and listened in amusement to Didi's flawless rendition of the comedic Rodgers and Hammerstein song. When she'd finished, with her arms spread wide on either side, Cam applauded.

"Bravo! Encore!" He removed the towel from his shoulders and tossed it negligently back into the bathroom, walking slowly toward her as he did so. "Didi, you are full of surprises," he said, looking at her with mixed amusement and tenderness as he drew near. "You are one talented lady. Lullabies are one thing, but a Rodgers and Hammerstein musical?" He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it while gazing intently into her eyes. After releasing her hand, he asked, "May I assume you've performed that number before?"

Didi nodded. Her throat was suddenly parched and dry and her heart was pounding. "In high school," she croaked.

"You played Nellie Forbush?"

"Mm-hm," she mumbled, nodding.

"You must've brought the house down. So, who played Emile?"

"Tad."

"He could sing?"

"More or less."

"Didi, I know just singing that song didn't strain your throat, so why are you being monosyllabic all of a sudden? Is it because I caught you off guard?"

She nodded her head. "I haven't performed like that for a long time."

"Well, you should. You're terrific."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, would you do another number for me? Outside of my own music collection, I haven't heard singing that good in quite a while." His eyes were tender and pleading.

"I guess I could," she said to him. "I need a drink first, though."

She slid past him and ran to the bathroom. She stopped to hang up his towel before filling her designated cup with water and taking a few swallows. She then dried her hands on her towel and exited the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Cam was sitting on the edge of her bed, facing the wall and waiting. Didi's heart pounded. She didn't _want_ to sing in front of him. It was just too . . . _daunting_. What should she sing? What would be _safe_ for her to sing for Cam?

He turned around. "What's taking so long? You've got a restless audience here!"

"Um, what would you like me to sing?" she asked, putting it on him.

"Something else from _South Pacific_—maybe the one with **Kansas **in it."

_Oh boy!_ she thought. _He _**would**_ pick that one . . ._ _Just keep your cool_, she told herself. _Don't get flustered._

She took a deep breath, walked toward the wall, stood in front of it, faced Cam and began to sing, "I expect everyone of my crowd to make fun of my proud protestations of faith in romance . . ."

Cam did the orchestration and percussion effects. It wasn't melodic, but it was better than Didi having to do it herself.

When she ended with the sweeping final avowal "I'm in love with a wonderful . . . guy!" Cam applauded again, more circumspectly this time.

"You sang it as if you meant it," he said, hoping she would admit that she did.

"I sang it just the way I did back in high school," was her noncommittal response.

Since boyfriend Tad had played Emile, there was no doubt in Cam's mind that Didi _had_ meant it when she'd performed it back then. But did that mean she was simply copying her high school performance just now?—or did it mean she was in love _again_?

"You must've been the hit of the show," he told her. "Now I know enough about you to wish you a proper good night. 'Didina Steadman, songstress extraordinaire.'"

"Thanks. As I said, it's been a while since I've performed like that. I do solos in church sometimes—especially on Easter Sunday and at Christmastime. But I haven't done anything _secular_ in front of an audience for a long time."

Just as Cam was about to request another number, the door opened and lunch was brought in. "Wow!" he said. "Is it lunchtime already? My, how time flies when you're having fun!"

Lunch was a pair of chef's salads, topped with their respective favorite types of dressings. They could've come from anywhere. Cam ate all of his and polished off the bits of Didi's that she didn't like.

"Not the best chef's salad I've ever eaten," said Cam, as he pushed the cart away, "but it was better than most."

"It was pretty good, as chef's salads go," Didi opined.

"You probably prefer a salad bar when you eat out, so you can take what you want."

Didi nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"So, how about another song, Miss Steadman?"

Didi shook her head. "Not right now. I don't like to _sing_ with a full stomach any more than you like to _exercise_ with one."

"Okay, then. We'll wait awhile. How old were you when you first started singing?"

"I guess I was about three or four. My parents were born just a few years before rock 'n' roll, so they listened to stuff from the late fifties, as well as the sixties and early seventies. I was influenced, of course, by what I heard, and started by trying to sing songs that were recorded by Connie Francis, the Supremes, the Carpenters, Linda Ronstadt, Carly Simon, Olivia Newton-John . . . and others. Later on, I kind of got interested in Tiffany, Debbie Gibson, Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey."

"When did you get interested in _South Pacific_?"

"When I learned 'Dites-moi' in my seventh grade French class."

"You took French in _seventh grade_?"

"Mm-hm," she replied, nodding. "From seventh grade clear through my senior year."

"You must be as fluent in it as Jackson, then."

She shook her head. "If you don't use it all the time, it's easy to forget a lot of it. Simple things I can still remember—and I can understand a lot of what I hear—but I couldn't really carry on a conversation with anyone in French: I haven't practiced it enough. Daniel has an exceptional mind."

"That he does. It's incredible the amount of information that man's brain can retain."

"And for someone so smart, he seems pretty down to earth."

"A lot of the time that's true. But you've never seen him when we go to a previously unexplored world and he finds ancient writings or artifacts. When the rest of us are bored and ready to go home, he wants to stay and do research."

"After listening to him talk about the Chak-tuk, the Ori and the Goa'uld, I can well imagine. He's very passionate about things in his own fields of expertise, that's for sure."

"You ready to sing again for me yet?" Cam asked, evidently bored with the subject of Dr. Jackson.

Didi grimaced. "I _could_ sing again, but . . . I've never done a command performance before. I'm kind of uncomfortable with it."

"Is _that_ what you think I'm asking for?—a 'command performance'?" Cam looked thoughtful. "Huh. I guess, in a way, I am. I hadn't thought about it like that. Tad never asked you to sing for him?"

"I used to sing around the house all the time, especially when doing chores. If Tad walked in on me, he'd usually sing along if he knew the song. He never asked me to stand in front of him and put on a show, though."

"Sorry. I didn't realize I was being so demanding—or that you'd mind doing it. I won't bug you about it again. But if you feel like singing off the cuff or on the spur of the moment, don't let my being here stop you. You have a beautiful voice; you should use it. In the meantime," he sighed, "shall we get back to getting to know each other better?"

"Sure. So why don't you tell me a few SG-1 stories?"

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"Tell me about how Daniel and Vala met."

"Why? Not that I mind telling you: it's a great story. I'm just curious as to why you're interested in it."

"Because Vala is so obviously in love with Daniel, but he doesn't feel the same way about her. He's fond of her, but that's about as far as it goes. I don't think he completely trusts her. I'm just curious as to why."

"Well, it all started when General Hammond took command of the _Prometheus_ in order to go and check up on the expedition that went to the city of Atlantis in the Pegasus Galaxy. (Jackson went along for the ride, having _wanted_ to go to Atlantis ever since it was found.) But that's a whole 'nother ball o' wax . . ."

By midday, Gor-lak had not only built a bathroom for SG-1, but he had provided them with dressers, clean clothes, and all of the amenities that Cam and Didi had already been given. Gor-lak informed the six humans that they would have clean clothes in their respective dresser drawers each morning. How and when he would swap their dirty ones for clean ones they didn't know, but they were grateful that they'd be able to change into something fresh every day.

Cam and Didi spent much of the afternoon swapping stories. For every SG-1 story Cam told her, Didi told him an appealing or amusing story from her own life. Although her experiences couldn't compete with his in the "exciting" department, she had a way of making even everyday occurrences sound interesting. She had a gift for words as well as music. Cam grew more and more impressed and intrigued with her as time passed.

He also discovered that, when she was at ease, Didi had a rich sense of humor. She found humor in just about every situation _he_ described to _her_, and related her own amusing anecdotes with flair. And there always seemed to be a pun on the tip of her tongue, just waiting to be unleashed at the right moment.

For her part, Didi was learning with each passing hour what amazing people the members of SG-1 really were. Although an adept storyteller, Cam never blew his own horn. As far as he was concerned, everything that SG-1 had done was a team effort. He underplayed his own importance at every turn. Didi was able to determine on her own when he was doing that, however, due to the very nature of each adventure he described.

When Sam had been badly wounded by an Ori Prior while trying to cloak an entire village from the sensors of an orbiting Ori ship, Cam had—with Sam's instructions—been able to restore full power to the device, while rendering what medical aid he could to her. He downplayed that part of it, but Didi had asked questions and had gotten the bare facts out of him, despite his reluctance to sound as though he'd done anything remarkable or heroic. His self-effacing nature made her admiration and affection for him grow all the more.

After dinner that evening, Gor-lak once again took the duo to the other room to spend some time with the rest of SG-1. Didi told the others which stories Cam had related to her and asked them questions that would shed more light on Cam's part in each one. As she suspected, Cam had, indeed, downplayed his own roll in each situation.

"I thought I was going to die from that wound," Sam told Didi in regard to the incident with the cloaking device. "I was almost sure of it, and was, I admit, pretty frightened by the prospect. I've been a scientist my entire adult life and have never really believed in anything I couldn't detect with my senses. I was afraid that, if I died, that would be the end of everything. I didn't like the thought of slipping into oblivion. At that point, I didn't think science was going to do me much good. I wondered if there really was someone or something out there that I should've been believing in all along. Cam told me that it didn't matter _what_ I believed, as long as I believed in _something_—that sometimes belief in and of itself could be a powerful thing. He told me to just hold on and not give up."

"I wish I'd been there for that one," said Daniel. "Unfortunately, I was in the custody of the Orici at the time."

"The Orici?"

"My daughter, Adria," Vala said sadly. She then explained how that had come to pass. Everyone else contributed to the tale as it unfolded, including the Merlin connection; how they'd felt about Daniel's temporarily becoming an Ori Prior; and how Gen. O'Neill had helped Daniel and the rest of SG-1 to send the Sangraal into the Ori galaxy (via a supergate that the Ori army had built), in hopes that the Ori would be destroyed. The tale ended with a severely weakened Adria locked in deadly combat with Morgan LeFey. They were all pretty certain Adria had lost the fight. When the story was over, Didi was in tears.

"It must've been awful for you to watch her turn into a power-mad tyrant like that," she said to Vala. "After all the time you spent trying to convince her that what she and the Ori were doing was wrong, in the end she was no better than _they _were."

"She was ultimately _their_ child, not mine," said Vala. "I was merely the vessel chosen to give her a human body to inhabit. I've always figured I was chosen because the Ori had a certain sense of irony. Having the Orici born of a woman who was numbered among their greatest enemies was the _ultimate_ in irony. Even _I_ understood that."

"But you had to facilitate her demise. . . ."

"And I did it gladly. When I saw how power-mad she had become, I knew she was irredeemable. There was no choice but to destroy her, just as we had destroyed the Ori."

"Let's change the subject," Daniel said. "That whole mess is something I'd just as soon forget."

"I think we _all_ would," stated Cam. "So why don't you guys tell us about the infamous Colonel Maybourne, a.k.a. King Harry the First. I _loved_ reading General O'Neill's report on _that_ one."

"First we should give Didi some background information on Colonel Maybourne," said Sam.

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c. "It is a most interesting tale. I have known few humans in my life who have undergone as much change for the better as did Colonel Maybourne."

"Sam, you were there from the outset," said Cam, "so why don't you start, and Jackson and Teal'c can jump in with what _they_ know as the story progresses. Sorry, Vala, but you're going to have to be a part of the listening audience this time."

"I actually prefer it at the moment," she replied, still feeling a bit sullen.

By the time the entire story of the man who had been Major, Colonel and King Harry Maybourne had been told, Didi was agog. "That has got to be one of the most incredible stories I've ever heard! He got a way with _so much_! But his heart was changed by a group of simple villagers who depended on and believed in him. I guess that just goes to show that, unless someone turns their heart _completely_ to evil, they're not irredeemable after all."

"Harry was never really evil, per se," opined Sam. "He was simply . . . misguided. His priorities were a little confused."

"You're being a bit too generous, Sam," said Daniel. "He caused more trouble for Jack than anyone but Ba'al and Kinsey."

"I know," Sam admitted. "But even General O'Neill forgave him in the end when he saw how much he'd changed. He could've gone back to Earth, but he chose to stay and help those people. That proves he wasn't all bad—even at his worst."

The door opened before Daniel could get in another rebuttal. Gor-lak had come to take Cam and Didi back to their quarters. They said their goodbyes to the group and followed the Chak-tuk home.

Home. _It's weird,_ mused Cam, _that I should be thinking of that dinky little room as "home."_ It could only be because he was sharing it with Didi. His grandma had always loved that old adage "Home is where the heart is." He now knew what it meant. For Cameron Mitchell "home" was wherever Didina Steadman was. And right now, that was here, in a tiny little windowless room on PX5 452—otherwise known as Planet Max—and at that moment, he had no regrets.


	7. Chapter 7

_**(Disclaimer: In this chapter, the lyrics to "Happy Together," "Top of the World" and "Dream a Little Dream of Me" belong to their respective owners. "Didi's Declaration" belongs to me. Please do not use it without permission.)**_

CHAPTER 7: THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 18

While Didi was getting dressed the next morning, Cam noted that by mid-afternoon it would be two days since Didi had first awakened in the other room; two days since he had first gazed into her beautiful blue eyes and been drawn to the amazing soul he had seen inside of them.

In less than two days he had learned more about this woman than he'd learned about Sam or Vala in _four years. _He knew her full name (her middle name was Lynette); he knew her favorite foods and what she hated; he knew what types of music she liked and what sports she most enjoyed watching; he knew all of her favorite vacation spots, and he knew the details of the worst vacation trip she'd ever been on with her family, _and_ those of an equally bad one with Tad; he knew the name of the pastor who had presided over her christening and the one who had performed the marriage ceremony to her scoundrel of an ex; he knew all of her favorite restaurants—including fast food places and greasy spoons—and he knew which ones made the best milkshakes.

He loved the curve of her face; the sound of her voice; the music of her laughter; the blond of her hair; the blue of her eyes; and the feel of her soft, warm skin. If he had to go another day without telling her he loved her, he felt he'd burst. _Please, God,_ he pled silently, _give me the strength to wait another day. . . ._

During and after breakfast they made small talk, covering a wide range of topics: how beautiful Kansas is in autumn, what the weather in Colorado Springs is like in comparison to their region of Kansas, and the Big Lie kids are told when they go to get their tonsils out.

"They tell you that you can have all the ice cream you want," said Didi, "but what they_ don't _tell you is that your throat's gonna hurt so much, you won't _want_ to eat any for days!"

"Yeah, I know; kinda got _me_ mad, too. But, boy, did I make up for it once my throat started feeling better! I held my parents to that promise. I felt they owed it to me."

Didi laughed. "If I ever have kids and they need to get their tonsils out, I'm going to be upfront with them about it."

"I hear ya. I feel exactly the same way." After saying this, Cam stood up and said cryptically, "I'm going to go make some offerings to the porcelain god." He then went into the bathroom and closed the door. Didi, suddenly realizing what he'd meant, snorted.

By the time Cam emerged Didi was sitting up against the wall, looking thoughtful.

"What's on your mind, Didi?" Cam inquired.

"I just realized that, outside of your football career and your experiences with SG-1, I don't really know all that much about you. I know it's my own fault: I kept asking you to tell me stories about your exploits going through the Stargate. But now I'd like to know more about _you_—Cameron Mitchell, the man. Tell me more about your parents and your grandparents; tell me some stories from your childhood, from your days at the Academy and from your years as a regular old Air Force pilot."

Cam smiled and sat down at the foot of Didi's bed. "Be glad to."

He'd barely gotten through his first story—about an overly aggressive rooster on the family farm that was eventually served up for Easter dinner—when Gor-lak dropped in.

"Hey, Gor-lak," Cam said. "What's up?"

"I was just curious to see how you and Miss Steadman are getting along after two days together."

"We're doing fine, aren't we, Didi?"

"Yes, we are," Didi replied.

"Good! I was afraid you might be tiring of each other's company by now."

"Not a chance!" Cam said emphatically. "We're getting to know each other _real_ well. It's been an eye-opening experience for both of us."

Gor-lak looked at Didi and she nodded.

"Very well, then," Gor-lak said. "I shall leave you to continue getting to know each other."

"See you later, Gor-lak," said Cam cheerfully.

Gor-lak was mystified by Cam's cheerfulness—particularly in view of the fact that he would be facing mortal danger the following afternoon—but he said nothing. Shrugging his shoulders, he left.

"Got another story for me, Cam?" Didi asked after the Chak-tuk elder had gone.

"I've got plenty. It's a matter of picking one. . . . Now let me see . . . When I was about three or four years old, there was this big, old, worn out inner tube from a tractor tire that Granddad had patched up so that I could sit down and bounce on it. He set it in the middle of the lawn, so that if I fell off, I wouldn't hurt myself too seriously.

"Well, one day I was just bouncing up a storm, and I came down on it wrong. The other side of the tube flipped up, flew over my head and dumped me on my back. My legs were sticking out through the hole in the middle, and I couldn't get back up. I started screaming and yelling for help, but everybody on the farm was busy, so they didn't hear me. Eventually, my hollering drew the attention of the old billy goat, Ned. (He was a smart old cuss and he knew how to undo the gate latch to the goat pen.) He came trotting over to see what all the fuss was about, took one look at the big, black ring with legs and charged it—punctured the inner tube with one shot. Then he stood there and ate grass while the tube slowly deflated beneath me.

"I figured it'd take a few minutes to deflate enough so that I could get out of it, but at least I knew it would go down eventually and I stopped yelling. I just lay there on my back, staring up at the beautiful blue Kansas sky and waited. Mom eventually came looking for me and saw me lying there with my feet sticking out of the inner tube. . . . Not knowing the whole story, she just assumed the goat had attacked me while I was bouncing. After lifting me out of the tube and setting me on my feet, she grabbed Ned and hauled him off to the goat pen. She made the gate latch more secure than before and scolded him. I always felt sorry for him, since his puncturing that tube saved me from screaming myself hoarse."

"Did your grandfather re-patch the tube?"

"No; I told him not to and explained what'd _really_ happened. (Mom was too upset to listen, having already made up her mind that Ned was guilty.) Granddad never bothered to tell her the truth. He just fed Ned an occasional extra carrot as a reward for trying to help me out of a jam and threw the inner tube out. I told him I didn't wanna end up on my back like that again. He made me a tire swing and hung it from an old tree instead. One day the tree was struck by lightning and split down the middle. Before too long it shriveled up and died and was eventually uprooted and carried off by a Kansas twister. I started believing that tires were just plain bad luck."

Didi was smiling. It wasn't a rip-roaring with laughter story, but it was amusing and she could picture it so well in her mind. . . . She just wondered what Cam had looked like back then. _He was probably a really adorable little boy, _she thought.

After the last story ended, Cam decided it was time to exercise. While he was thus engaged, Didi was humming softly to herself. It wasn't a tune Cam recognized, and he wondered if it might be something Didi herself had composed. He wouldn't put it past her. The lady was quite talented, and he had a feeling that there was even _more_ lying deep beneath the surface that he had yet to discover about her.

When she had finished humming the new tune, she started to hum—and vocalize—other things: primarily workout tunes and instrumentals with a good beat, many of which Cam recognized. He knew Didi was choosing the numbers deliberately, to make his morning exercise regimen a bit more enjoyable.

When his watch alarm went off, Cam stood up, looked at Didi and smiled softly. Sweat was running down his face and chest. "Thanks for the exercise music," he said, panting. "I had a great workout."

"Houston, we have a problem," Didi said.

"And what might that be?" Cam asked with mild amusement.

"I don't have a used shirt for you to wipe yourself off with this time since Gor-lak swapped out the old one for the new one in the middle of the night."

Cam shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'll just go hop into the shower right away." He took his T-shirt off her bed and said, "I'll be out in a few. Don't sing anything . . . _special_ while I'm gone. I wouldn't wanna miss it." He was looking at her tenderly, a soft smile on his face.

"What about the beds?" Didi queried.

"We'll move them when I get out; they're not all that heavy—which I didn't realize yesterday."

"Enjoy your shower," Didi said as he headed toward the bathroom.

"It's just a shower."

"I know, but I had to say _something_."

Cam chuckled. "You're so polite sometimes, it's downright cute." He closed the door then and missed Didi's blush.

She sat down on the edge of his bed, as near to the bathroom as she could get. She wanted to sing for him some more, but she knew he wouldn't hear her once he turned on the shower, and he had told her not to sing anything special while he was in there, so . . . She opted for some pop and bubble gum favorites, just for fun.

Cam heard about half of the first song before he pulled the curtain shut and turned on the water. It was "Sugar, Sugar." He smiled. His mother had sung that song to him when he was learning to walk; and when he was steadier on his feet, she had held his chubby little hands and swung his arms to the beat of the music. His father had filmed it and made Cam watch it more than once.

After he finished his shower and opened the curtain, he could just make out the words of "Happy Together." Didi was booming out the chorus, "I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life . . ."

By the time the song was winding down to its conclusion, Cam was opening the bathroom door and exiting—clean, dry and fully clothed once more.

He was also smiling. "You're a lot of fun to have around, you know that?" He sat down next to her on his bed. "Sing me one more really pretty one; then I'll tell you another story or two."

"Cam . . ."

"That's right: no command performances. I can't just sit here and watch. Hm. What to do . . .?"

"Maybe you could just . . . unlace and re-lace your boots or something while I sing. As long as you're not just sitting there looking at me, I'm okay."

"Unlace and re-lace my boots, huh? I guess I could do that."

He picked up his boots from where he'd left them next to the dresser and began to remove the laces. Didi went back to the comfort and security of her own bed, sat on the inner edge of it, facing his bed, and began to sing, "Such a feelin's comin' over me; There is wonder in most everything I see . . ."

As she sang the final "Your love's put me at the top of the world" and then vocalized the last few instrumental notes, Cam found himself smiling. Something told him she meant it, but she wasn't ready to admit it yet. It was a bouncy, painless way of expressing her feelings . . . at least, he thought it might be.

"No one with a voice like yours should be afraid to perform," he said, "—especially to an audience of _one man_ whose musical background is as limited as mine. Your voice is as beautiful as you are, Didi, no matter _what_ you're singing."

"Thank you," she replied with a smile.

"So, I guess it's story time again," Cam commented, his back still to her.

"Yes, it is," Didi said. "But before you start, would you just tell me a few things about yourself? What's your favorite color? What's your favorite holiday and why? What's your favorite food? Is there anything your mom used to make you eat that you absolutely hated? What's your favorite flavor of ice cream? What do you like to eat on a hot dog?"

Cam chuckled, dropped his re-laced boots to the floor, turned around and sat on the edge of the bed that faced Didi's. He gave her all of the answers she requested . . . and then some.

He told her that he liked to spend cold, snowy winter days in front of a roaring fire with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of apple cider; that his favorite childhood memory was of his mother singing "Someone to Watch over Me" while he was sick in bed with chicken pox at the age of six; that his grandma made the best macaroons anyone ever tasted; that his dad was the bravest man he knew; and that nothing could match the majesty and beauty of the earth when seen from space.

By the time he was through, Didi knew she had had a glimpse into his soul. This was the _man_—the everyday person—not the decorated hero she'd heard so much about over the past two days.

"Once upon a time," he began, "when I was at the Air Force Academy, I had a run-in with one of my instructors over something _so trivial_ that it shouldn't've mattered at all—especially to him. . . ."

By lunchtime, Didi had learned a great deal about Cameron Mitchell and his life, both in and out of the Air Force. He'd been hotheaded and brash when he was young, which didn't really surprise her, as his impulsive nature still manifested itself from time to time—albeit in minor ways at the moment.

It was fortunate for Cam that he'd had some practice in self-control over the last few years. His often impulsive behavior had gotten SG-1 into trouble a time or two, and he had had to learn to think before acting—or _re_acting—when every fiber of his being told him to "go for it" or "just do it"—whatever "it" was.

Having been a pilot, he'd been used to making judgment calls and reacting quickly in sticky or tense situations. Being the leader of a team of competent and experienced 'gate travelers, however, had meant that _their_ needs and _their_ ideas had to be taken into consideration before any action was taken. He couldn't go off halfcocked anymore; he couldn't come up with a plan and then just go and do it. Learning to wait for input and then make an informed and carefully considered decision had _not_ come easy to him.

But it had been good practice for what he was going through now. It would've come as quite a surprise to Didi if she'd known how much restraint he was exercising when it came to his feelings for her. Never in his life had Cameron Mitchell had to rein in his horses or cool his jets as much as he had over the past two days.

The only other time he could remember feeling equally impatient and ready to champ at the bit was when he was in the hospital, recovering from his injuries after the F-302 crash in Antarctica, and that had taken weeks. Three days should've been nothing compared to that, but . . . he was alone in a room with a beautiful woman with whom he'd fallen head over heels in love. _How could he _**not**_ want to hold her in his arms and tell her how he felt?_

After lunch, the duo lay on their respective beds and shared jokes, riddles and limericks with each other. Cam did his utmost to keep his clean. It wasn't easy, as most of the ones he'd heard—that weren't old, trite or overused—had been told in locker rooms by guys with nothing but women on their minds.

After about half an hour of that particular type of frivolity, they began talking about their favorite books and movies. Next they discussed books that had been made into movies and made comparisons between them. They then went on to discuss theatrical movies that had been made of old, defunct television series from the '60s and '70s.

In due course, _Star Trek_ came up—with all of its various incarnations and attendant media—and Cam speculated as to what might have happened had the Borg run into the Goa'uld, or had Q come across the Ori.

"It might be kind of interesting to see what would happen if a Klingon went up against a Chak-tuk warrior in the arena, too," said Cam.

"Or a Vulcan or Romulun against a Jaffa," put in Didi.

"I'd like to stick Sam in a room with Seven of Nine," said Cam.

"I'll just _bet_ you would," Didi said in an almost accusatory tone.

"Hey, no! I didn't mean it like that! I just think it would be interesting to watch them talk about technical stuff and see how much of what Seven told her Sam would actually comprehend."

Didi giggled. "If you were to put the two of them in a room together and they were talking tech, chances are you wouldn't be able to grasp much of what they were saying, even if you understood seventy-five percent of the actual _words_ they were using."

"That's probably true, but since I never understand much of what Sam's talking about most of the time anyway, it really wouldn't make much difference. It'd still be interesting to watch."

They were in the midst of a discussion of the various _King Kong_ movies that had been made over the course of decades, when dinner arrived. "The special effects might be better now," Didi was saying, "but I think the acting was better in the original."

Over dinner and for sometime afterward they talked about their best friends, from early childhood thru the present day. Cam was impressed when he discovered that, in spite of her steady relationship with Tad throughout high school, Didi had maintained close ties with girls she'd known most of her life. She was still friends with many of them, despite the fact that some had moved away.

Cam was able to reconnect with old friends whenever he went home to Auburn, but he was not in the habit of keeping up correspondence of any sort with them. The covert nature of his work made it difficult to converse with people who were not privy to his situation. Friends usually talked about work and about family. Cam was not married and didn't have a family of his own. When he'd been nothing more than an Air Force pilot, talking about his work had been allowed—as long as it didn't involve covert flyover missions in enemy airspace. Since becoming a 302 pilot in the employ of the SGC, however, everything had changed. From that time on he had been unable to say anything about what he _really _did. He and the others like him were always given a cover story to feed to family and friends, but he'd never been happy about lying to his parents. They knew he was stationed at Cheyenne Mountain, but exactly what he did there they would _never _know.

His new life had meant new friends, and although he cared a great deal about his teammates on SG-1, the bonds had been slow to form. Taking Gen. O'Neill's place as team leader had been daunting enough; trying to meld with the three people who had been the man's closest companions for nearly eight years was even harder. But Cam's natural leadership skills and his ability to keep his head during a crisis had done much to earn their respect, although they still tended to treat him like "the new kid on the block" much of the time.

All of this ran through Cam's mind as he ate. Although he only voiced a portion of it to Didi, she understood more than he realized. After the conversations she'd had with SG-1, she had developed a feel for them—a sense of who they were, both as a team and as individuals. She understood, too, the difficulty they had in maintaining relationships with people outside the Mountain. When people are close to you, they expect you to be open and honest with them about everything, including your work. When it doesn't happen, the relationship suffers. That was probably the primary reason that members of all of the SG teams became as close as they did to one another. Cam acknowledged that such was, indeed, the case.

"That's why I'm glad I have you," he told her. "No matter what happens once we return to Earth, no one can take your memories of all this from you. You'll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement, but that doesn't mean I can't come and see you and talk to you about things. It'll be a relief to have someone I _can_ share it with."

"And I'll be happy to be that someone," Didi replied, smiling softly.

By eight o'clock (PMST) on Cam's wristwatch, the talking began to wind down. Tomorrow was the Big Day, and both of them were well aware of that fact. Cam, especially, was anxious, not knowing what he would be facing in the arena. "I think I'm gonna go soak in the tub for awhile," he told Didi. "I need to try to relax and unwind a little or I won't get any sleep tonight."

"Make it as hot as you can stand it, then," said Didi. "The steam and the warmth of the water are often conducive to relaxing."

"Yeah, I know. That's my plan." He smiled at her as he took his clean pajamas and underwear with him into the bathroom.

While he was gone, Didi sat on her bed, thinking. Her thoughts were centered on Cam tonight—and Cam only—because, after more than two days alone in this room with him, she was certain that she was falling in love. She'd been trying to fight it, not knowing whether it was a good idea or not.

If Cam was falling in love with her—as Didi suspected he might be—there would be no question; she could never turn away from him if he told her that he loved her. In her eyes, Cam was as close to perfect as a man could be while still being human and fallible. But, after everything she'd been through with Tad, she hadn't wanted to put her heart on the line that easily, no matter how "rock solid and dependable" Cam had proven himself to be. Despite the fact that she wholeheartedly trusted him, she would not allow herself to get in too deeply without being _absolutely certain_ that _he_ truly cared for _her_.

_What are you going on about?_ her practical side asked. _You've only known him for a couple of days and a few hours! It's much too soon to be falling head over heels for the man!_

Oh, it was frustrating! She was much too much of a romantic for her own good.

_Rein in your emotions, girl!_ she chided herself. _Let nature take its course and go with the flow! Don't over-think the situation! Just let it happen if it's going to. Just . . . breathe. _She crossed her legs, closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to clear her head of too many thoughts.

_Tune out everything but the here and now. Don't worry about what you left behind on Earth, or how or when you'll ever get back there. Just think about being here with Cam and be grateful that he's proven himself an honorable and trustworthy man._

Seeing Cam's handsome face in her mind and finding her heart racing at the very thought of him, she decided that it might be a good idea to consult with God concerning her feelings for him.

Opening her eyes and looking upward as Cam had done before, she asked, _"If I was brought here for some purpose other than going into the arena, is it because Cam and I were 'meant to be'?"_

She opened her mind, waiting for an answer. At first there was an almost audible sigh that penetrated her heart and touched her soul. The words that followed the sigh puzzled her. _"This is an unusual situation. Only you and Cameron can decide if you were 'meant to be.'"_

_What does that mean?_ she wondered. She shook her head. _It probably just means that it's up to Cam and me to decide whether to get together or not._

She sighed and returned to her meditation, trying not to think anymore about Cam. Generally speaking, however, when a person tries _not_ to think about someone or something, that's precisely what they _do_ wind up thinking about . . . and so it was with Didi in regard to Cam.

_Don't dwell on what's going to happen in the arena tomorrow . . . (when Cam will risk his life for you.) _She slapped her forehead. _No, no, no, no, no! Stop it, stop it, stop it! . . . (But I can't help it!)_ she argued with herself. _(We've been alone in this room for more than two days and he's the most wonderful man I've ever met—not to mention an extremely _**attractive**_ one.)_ The argument stopped and a smile lit up her face. _Oh yes, he's definitely attractive. He always has been . . . Perhaps he's _**too**_ attractive. (Is there such a thing as "too attractive"?)_ She shook her head. _Nah!_ both sides of her said in unison. The war was over and Cam had won by default.

He exited the bathroom right about then and saw a radiant smile on her face. "You look inordinately happy. What've you been thinking about?" he asked her pointblank.

"You," she replied completely candidly.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. And it's good to see that you're smiling while doing it—as long as it doesn't mean you were having a laugh at my expense."

"I wasn't," she assured him. "So tell me: do I have any reason _not_ to smile?"

Cam shook his head. "None that I can think of."

"Good! Then I'll just keep smiling."

"Since I was in there so long," he said as he tossed his dirty clothes into the corner the duo had chosen for the purpose, "there should be plenty of hot water if you'd like to take your bath now."

Didi nodded. "Why not?" She got up from her bed, climbed over his and sat down by the dresser to get out her clean pajamas and underwear. Once she had them, she headed for the bathroom.

"Cam," she asked from the doorway, "could I use your shaving gel? I have no idea what kind of an outfit they're going to put me in tomorrow, and if I'm going to be showing my legs at all, I'd kind of like to be clean-shaven."

"Sure, go ahead. Since we only have the one can, we might as well share it."

"Thanks," she replied, smiling at him gratefully. She then closed the door.

Cam sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for the water to stop running. Didi tended to sing while she was bathing, and he always liked to go to the door and listen. It took a few minutes—even after the water was turned off—before any sound of music issued forth from the closed room, and when it finally did begin, it consisted of nothing but soft, quiet humming—which sounded oddly familiar.

As Didi washed herself, a song was in the process of being born. The humming turned to quiet singing as the lyrics formed in her mind, and the volume increased as the words and music gained ground.

"_My life's been like a rollercoaster,_

_With many ups and downs,_

_Many smiles and frowns_

_along the way._

_But now we're together and I feel all right,_

_Being alone here with you tonight._

_I look in your eyes and I simply have to say,_

_I think I'm falling in love with the thought of loving you._

_I could see us together now and forever if you want it, too._

_Please tell me: Do I stand a chance?_

_Could you and I find romance?_

_If the answer's 'yes,'_

_Then look in my eyes and just kiss me._

_I've had my share of love and losing,_

_as everybody knows:_

_In my eyes it shows,_

_all the pain._

_But since I met you, things have been okay;_

_The darkness turned into brightest day._

_When I see you smile, I have to say it again,_

_I think I'm falling in love with the thought of loving you._

_I could see us together now and forever if you want it, too._

_Please tell me: Do I stand a chance?_

_Could you and I find romance?_

_If the answer's 'yes,'_

_Then look in my eyes and just kiss me."_

By the time the song was over, Cam's heart was pounding in his chest. There was no doubt in his mind now that Didi had finally admitted her feelings for him to herself—which is why she'd been smiling when he'd come out of the bathroom. The song was her way of expressing those feelings to him without the fear of a face-to-face rejection, since she knew that he loved to hear her sing. She probably figured that, if he didn't feel the same way, he would treat it as though it were just another song. If he _did_ care for her, he would respond to it—and he fully intended to do so.

He stood outside the bathroom door, waiting impatiently for it to open and discharge the creature he loved most in the entire universe.

The moment the door opened, his heart began pounding again. Didi's towel was wrapped around her head and she was carrying her dirty clothes, but Cam didn't care. He took the bundle from her, tossed it to the floor, held her chin in his hand, gazed into her eyes and said, "The answer is a definite 'yes.'" He then wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. Since it was their first kiss, he kept it relatively brief, just in case. It was warm, soft, tender and sweet—all the things a first kiss between two people who have recently fallen in love should be.

"I was hoping you'd respond," Didi said when their lips parted. "That's why I sang that song."

Cam nodded. "I kind of thought so. I _do_ care about you—so much so, in fact, that when we go into the arena tomorrow, I'm gonna have that emotional edge we talked about the other day. Whatever I have to face—however formidable or terrible—I will give it everything I've got because when it's over, I'm going to claim you as my prize."

"Cam, I—"

"It's the only way I can guarantee your safety, Didi. What Gor-lak plans to do with you once the event is over, I can't say. None of this has ever been done before in Chak-tuk history. It's a first. I don't know what to expect, and I'm not going to take a chance with your life . . . or anything else."

"Do whatever you have to do, then," she said quietly.

"I want you to understand something, though, Didi: I'm not gonna push you into anything you're not ready for, and I'm not going to try to seduce you. I know what kind of a woman you are, and I hope that, by now, you know that I'm not the kind of a man who _takes advantage_ of a woman—ever. The ball is in your court, as it always has been."

She nodded. "I know, and I trust you. But I have to be _absolutely certain_ that this is right and real—that it's not just infatuation or some kind of . . . hero-worship thing I've got going on. If you really do know what kind of a woman I am, then you know that I'm an old fashioned girl—that I believe in the sanctity of marriage."

"I'm not sure if this'll make any difference, but . . . as Jackson told you before, when a Chak-tuk warrior wins an event, he has the right to claim the proffered female as his_ mate_, if he wants to. From what we've been able to ascertain, that's about the closest thing to a wedding ceremony that exists on this planet. If I win and I claim you, we will be—under Chak-tuk law—married . . . or at least_ mated_; same thing as far as _they're_ concerned. But, like I said, I'm not gonna push the issue. It's entirely up to you. If you'd rather wait 'til we get back to Earth and make it wholly legal, that's fine with me. I just want you with me, Didi, that's all."

"I understand. I want that, too. But I'm still a little scared, you know?"

"Yeah," Cam said, nodding. "I know. It's happened so fast, my head is spinning. But I'm a guy and not much of a romantic. You, on the other hand, _are_ one—and it shows. Being a romantic can make you lose your head—and your heart—too easily, so I can understand your reticence . . . especially since you were hurt so badly by your ex.

"As for me . . . I've never felt this way about any woman before, and that's saying a lot. When you're approaching forty and still single, it generally means you've been around the block a few times. I know _I_ have. There's not a lot I haven't experienced when it comes to relationships. But you're the first woman I've ever really . . . fallen in love with." Having said that, he gathered her into his arms again and kissed her lips once more. Then he whispered, "I love you, Didina Lynette Steadman."

_He finally said it!_ Didi was elated. She'd promised herself she wouldn't say it until he did. Now that he had, she, too, could say those all-important words without fear.

"I love you too, Cam," she said to his chest. "—at least, I'm pretty sure I do . . . if my romantic nature isn't leading me down the primrose path."

Cam loosened his hold on her, then smiled and gazed into her eyes. "We'll have plenty of time to figure that out once we get back to Earth and you move to Colorado Springs. In the meantime . . ." He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her again—more passionately this time. When their lips finally parted, he held her to him once more and said, "This is what I've waited all my life for. It feels like you belong in my arms, Dee. You're a perfect fit."

"I feel the same way," she responded.

"Do you know," said Cam, pulling back a bit and looking at Didi, "in all the time I've been here, I have never seen a single Chak-tuk embrace another? Whatever their mating practices are, I don't think they involve much in the way of emotions. Hugging may be a completely alien concept to them."

"Maybe their mating practices are like those of animals back on Earth: the males fight to win the favor of the females so that they can reproduce."

"And for most of them," Cam added, "it's a matter of winning the _choicest_ females, so that their offspring will be superior, too. I don't think it has anything to do with emotions."

"Their loss," said Didi, gazing raptly into Cam's eyes.

"I couldn't agree more." He kissed her yet again, though not quite as passionately this time. The kiss was warm, deep and satisfying nonetheless. He then touched his forehead to hers and said, "I really do love you, Didi."

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing that," she replied, placing her hands on his chest. "I haven't heard those words from anyone but my parents for a very long time."

"Neither have I."

Didi looked into his eyes thoughtfully. "You haven't, have you?" She shook her head. "All this time I've been thinking only about _myself_—what this relationship could mean for _me_. It didn't even occur to me that _you_ might never have been in love before, and so never heard those words from a woman outside of your family."

"You couldn't've known. I haven't talked about my personal relationships. I didn't _want_ to."

Didi nodded. "I understand. Anyway, I'll try to rectify the situation and say 'I love you' as often as circumstances dictate." There was a light in her eyes as she gazed into his. "I . . . love . . . you." She said it slowly and deliberately, letting each word sink into Cam's heart and etch itself into his mind.

He smiled warmly and appreciatively. "Man! That _does_ sound good!" He released his hold on her and said, "I think it's about time you combed out your hair: it's been wrapped up in that towel long enough."

"Oh, gosh!" she said, running into the bathroom while removing the towel. "I forgot all about it!"

"Understandable. It's not every day a guy tells you he loves you and makes a commitment to lay claim to you as his mate."

"That's certainly true," she replied through gritted teeth. "This could take a while," she told him. "My hair's almost dry already, and because it's kind of long, combing out the tangles when it's this dry is really, really hard."

"Could I give you a hand with that?"

"Uh . . . thanks, but, no. I have a system for getting the tangles out of my hair—one that's as pain free as possible. You could pick up those dirty clothes you tossed on the floor and put them in the corner, though."

"Oh, right. I forgot all about those, caught up as I was in the aftermath of your beautiful song." He picked up the clothes and disposed of them as directed, then returned to his bed and sat down.

"Do you really think it's beautiful? I was working on it while you were exercising this morning."

"Is that what that was?—that first melody you were humming that I didn't recognize?"

"Yes."

"And 'yes' right back at you. It is beautiful. As soon as we have access to paper and pencil—or a computer with a word processing program—I want you to write it . . . for posterity. It's going to be _our_ song. And I won't brook any argument from you on that score."

Didi smiled softly as she set her comb down on the countertop. "You won't get any."

Cam heard the sound of the comb being laid down. "You're finished with your hair?"

"Yes. Why don't you come on in and we can brush our teeth together?" she asked, sliding the scrunchy she'd been wearing the day she first arrived into her hair. (Since it was all she had to hold her hair back, she used it each time she bathed, brushed her teeth, or washed her face at the sink. Cam had considered asking Gor-lak to get her another one or two, but Didi had told him not to bother—that it wasn't worth the trouble, since it was plain white and she could wear it with anything.)

Cam smiled. "I haven't brushed my teeth alongside someone else in years." He entered the bathroom, stood next to Didi and picked up the toothbrush and toothpaste Gor-lak had procured for him.

When they were through brushing, Didi removed the scrunchy again, set it on the counter by the sink and said, "I guess we'd better hit the hay, huh? Tomorrow's the Big Day and you're gonna need all the strength and energy you can muster."

"Yeah, I know," Cam replied, exiting the bathroom and climbing onto his bed. "But I'm kind of wound up right now. Do you think you could try singing me to sleep again?"

"I'd be glad to." Didi made her way to her own bed, climbed underneath the covers, propped up her pillow, and said, "Lights out."

"Good night, Didi. I love you," Cam said one last time.

"Good night, Cam," she replied. Then she began to sing. "Stars shining bright above you; Night breezes seem to whisper I love you; Birds singing in the sycamore tree; Dream a little dream of me . . ."

Sometime during the repetition of the last verse, Cam drifted off to sleep, a smile on his face and the sweet glow of love warming his heart.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8: HEIGHTS AND DEPTHS

Cam awakened a few minutes after seven again the next morning, and, even though he knew that he and Didi would be facing mortal danger later in the day, his heart was light. Didi had told him she loved him and had sung "Dream a Little Dream of Me" while he was falling asleep. His dreams throughout the night had all been sweet and all about her.

Throwing off his covers, he activated the light on his wristwatch again and walked to her bed, sitting down next to where she lay. He tenderly caressed her cheek and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"Hi, Cam," she said sleepily but cheerfully.

"Happy birthday, angel," he said, removing his hand from her cheek as she began to sit up.

"Thanks," she replied. "Did you sleep well?"

"Best night's sleep I've had in a long while," he confessed, putting his hand back on her cheek. "You picked the perfect song for the occasion."

She shrugged. "It just came to me."

"Shall I get the lights on?"

"Yes, please. I'd like to look into your eyes before I kiss you good morning."

"Lights at thirty percent," Cam called out. "Ah! Just right."

They gazed into one another's eyes just long enough to enjoy the moment; then Cam drew Didi's face toward him with the hand he had on her cheek and pressed his lips to hers. Afterward, he said, "Do you know you have the most incredible lips? They're the perfect size and shape—and they taste good, too."

Didi smiled. "I could say the same about yours."

"No two ways about it," said Cam, cocking his head to one side, "you and I are in love."

They kissed again—this time with fervor. It was actually a series of kisses with no break in between. At seven-thirty, Cam's watch alarm beeped. "It's time to get dressed for breakfast," his lips said to hers. He gave her one last quick kiss and then withdrew, getting to his feet. "I'm going to go to the head really quick, then I'll let you have it for a few minutes. Just don't forget that I need to shave today. How are your legs, by the way?"

"Smoother than a baby's bottom," Didi said with a smile while stretching her arms.

"I hope I get a chance to see 'em," said Cam as he entered the bathroom and shut the door.

Didi sighed, climbed out of bed, and did a few stretching and limbering exercises. She knew she would have to start doing more than that, however, if she was going to be a part of Cam's life. She would never be able to keep up with him once they returned to Earth if she didn't.

He exited the bathroom soon thereafter, so Didi grabbed her clean clothes from the dresser and entered the bathroom herself. Cam made his bed while she was gone and then sat on it, with his clean clothes in his lap, waiting for her return.

She was done in less than ten minutes. She had brushed her hair until it shone and pulled it back into the scrunchy. "Your turn," she said as she exited the bathroom.

"Good! It's getting late and I need to get going," Cam said, sidling past her to the bathroom.

"Cam, could I watch you shave?"

"Haven't you ever watched a man shave before?"

"Yes, but it's been a while. I just find the whole process . . . fascinating."

"I'm sure I'd find the process of your shaving your legs just as fascinating, but somehow I doubt I'm gonna get that chance anytime soon . . ."

"Fine, then," Didi pouted, going to the dresser to put her pajamas away.

"I was just yanking your chain, Didi," he said. "Soon as I get my pants on, I'll open the door and you can stand in the doorway and watch 'til your heart's content."

She smiled. "Thank you," she said in an affected "stuffed-shirt" tone of voice.

Cam rolled his eyes and shook his head, then closed the bathroom door.

Didi made her bed while she waited. It didn't take him long to doff his pajamas and don his clean blue jeans. She was sitting on the edge of his bed when he opened the door.

His shirt was lying on the closed toilet seat, safe from dripping water or shaving gel. He squirted a dollop of gel into his hand and spread it over his face; Didi watched as it turned to foam. Cam then took the four-bladed razor and placed it against his right cheek, pulling down on the handle.

He had only shaved about half of his face by the time breakfast arrived. "Oh, rats!" Didi said, as she reluctantly turned around and went to greet the servant and his cart. "It looks like IHOP again," she called to Cam, "but without any pancakes this time. We've got steak and eggs-over-easy for you; bacon and eggs-over-hard for me; lots of hash browns and toast for both of us." She picked up a slice of bacon and happily began to munch it. "Cam, you need to come out here and take a bite of something so the little guy can leave and report to Gor-lak that we're eating."

"Yeah, yeah." Cam wandered out of the bathroom and grabbed a piece of toast with his left hand, biting off a corner of it in an aggressive fashion, all the while gazing steadily into the reptilian eyes of the Chak-tuk servant. The little fellow was tilting his head back and forth curiously, evidently more interested in Cam's face than in whether or not he was eating. "Ah!" said Cam. "You're wondering about the white stuff on my face." He smiled and put the razor (which he was still holding) up to his left cheek and took a slow, careful swipe with it. When the foam came off, the servant shook his head, evidently not understanding that the purpose of the razor was to remove the hair _underneath_ the foam. Not having any facial hair, shaving was unknown among the Chak-tuk. To further illustrate the purpose of the razor, Cam took a rather large risk and shaved a small patch of hair from his chest, in the vicinity of his sternum. He then held the razor up for the servant to see that it was covered with the long, scraggly hairs from his chest. The Chak-tuk's face lit up and he nodded broadly, if not enthusiastically. Now he understood.

Cam took another bite of the toast, just to be sure the little guy saw him eating; he then returned to the bathroom with both the toast and the razor. He had to rinse the chest hairs from the blades before he could use it on his face again.

The servant stood watching Cam from afar for another couple of minutes, then shook his head in wonder and left. Didi got up and returned to the bathroom doorway to watch Cam finish shaving.

"Your eggs are gonna get cold. . . ." Cam said to her as she approached.

"So are yours," she countered. "I can live with it if you can."

"The little guy was sure fascinated with the whole shaving thing."

"Anyone who doesn't have a beard would be," Didi opined, "including me. All I have is 'peach fuzz.' You don't shave a peach."

"Not unless you're really weird. . . . There! I'm all done." He wiped the residue of the shaving cream from his face and then patted it dry with his face/hand towel. After putting everything away, he grabbed his shirt, turned toward the door and found Didi still standing there. "Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"

"In a minute." She reached out, ran her fingers through his chest hairs and giggled. "That's fun!"

"Yeah, well, there'll be time for that later. Right now . . . I'm starving. So if you don't mind, I'd like to put my shirt on and get some breakfast."

Didi's lip went out in a pout and she folded her arms. "Spoilsport!"

She turned her back on him, heading through the narrow gap between the wall and the ends of the beds. But she hadn't taken half a step before Cam swatted her on the backside again.

She turned around, a hurt look on her face. "Pouting isn't aloud," he said as he slid into his shirt.

She smiled, stepped up and kissed him on the chin. "I love you," she told him. Then she scurried past both beds, returned to her seat on the edge of her bed and pulled the breakfast cart toward her.

Cam climbed over the beds, sat down beside her and sighed. "This looks great, just like Wednesday's. But . . . I have to fight sometime today, and I don't wanna be weighed down with a big breakfast."

Gor-lak entered the room in time to hear that remark and said, "Do not concern yourself, Colonel Mitchell. It will be several hours before you and Miss Steadman enter the arena. Eat your fill."

"When are we going in, exactly?" Cam inquired.

"A little less than six hours from now," the Chak-tuk elder responded.

"Around two this afternoon, then. Good! I'll go ahead and eat and skip lunch if I have to."

"Please do eat," said Gor-lak. "I came merely to inform you of when you would be going into the arena. I will leave you to your meal."

After Gor-lak left, Didi asked, "Are you going to exercise sometime after breakfast again?"

"Of course! I've gotta limber up and get my muscles toned and ready for combat."

"I'll sing songs with a good steady rhythm to them again—stuff that's easy to exercise to."

"Sounds good. Thanks."

They returned to eating. It didn't matter that the food was barely warm; it didn't matter that the grease was starting to congeal, or that the orange juice was no longer cold. At that moment, it didn't even matter that they would be facing an unidentified danger of some sort in the arena later in the day. They were happily in love, and nothing could rain on their parade—not just yet, anyway.

When they had eaten their fill, Cam pushed the cart away and fell back onto Didi's bed again and patted his stomach. "That was good," he said. "The steak was a little overdone, but tasty nonetheless."

The Chak-tuk servant entered then and took the cart away. It was nine o'clock.

After he left, Didi curled up on the bed beside Cam and smiled. "I really do love you, Cam," she said, "but I still can't believe it happened this quickly."

Cam sat back up. "Well, when you spend the better part of three days alone with someone, with nothing to do but get to know each other—if you _like_ the things you learn about each other—why not?"

"Is that what we're going to tell the others?"

"The others. Right. Sooner or later we'll probably end up in a room with the rest of the gang, so, yeah, I guess that's what we'll tell 'em."

"And what will we tell our parents if and when we get back to Kansas?"

"(Oh, we'll get there, one way or the other.) As for what we'll tell our folks when the time comes . . . you are planning—for sure—to move to Colorado Springs, right?"

"Yes, I am—especially now that I know _you_ live there." She smiled.

"So, move into my apartment building. A guy down the hall from me is planning to move out at the end of the month. You could rent _his_ place. I'll help you move in, like I said the other day. We'll tell our folks that's how we met."

"I'm not very good at lying," Didi confessed.

"You wouldn't necessarily have to lie. All you'd have to say is 'When I first arrived in Colorado Springs, Cam helped me move in. My apartment is down the hall from his.' That _won't_ be a lie. From then on, we talk only about our dates. What's happening here will never come up. It won't have to."

Didi nodded, hope shining in her eyes. "I think I could do that. Since they'd never believe the truth anyway, there'd be no point in trying to tell them. But how do I explain where I've been all this time? They must be frantic, worrying about me."

"They probably think you were kidnapped or something. Once we get back to the SGC, we can figure out a way to get you home. Maybe some Feds who know about the Stargate could take you to your parents' house and tell them a good cover story about how they tracked down your abductors and found you. All you'd have to do is keep quiet until they leave and then act like a typical kidnap victim."

"If I act traumatized, my parents won't pry too much, either."

"There ya go. And it shouldn't be too difficult to _look_ traumatized after all that you will have been through by the time we _do_ get you home."

"That's true. And they won't make me talk about it until I'm ready—if I ever am."

"By that time, you'll probably be in Colorado Springs and dating me."

Didi bit her lip. "That may not happen. If I'm traumatized, my parents won't _let_ me move—at least, not that soon. Maybe by _November_ first, but _October_ first would probably be out of the question."

"What? You think they'll insist on your seeing a shrink or something?"

"Probably. They'll want me to talk about it with _someone _if I can't or won't talk to them."

"You could _insist_ on leaving: tell them that, after what happened, you don't feel safe in Topeka anymore—that you've gotta get away. But if _that_ doesn't feel right, there _is_ something else we could do."

"What?" Didi asked, hope growing.

"Well, if we _do_ have some Feds take you home, they could tell your parents that you've spent the last few days being debriefed, giving a deposition, and talking to a counselor who's on the FBI's payroll: one who works regularly with trauma victims—including those who've been involved in kidnappings, bank robberies, hijackings and terrorist attacks. Do you think that'd help?"

"It might, but I think we should be prepared to find me an apartment somewhere other than your building—a place that'll be available by November—just in case it doesn't. If _they_ insist that I _stay_; and if _I _get too insistent about _leaving_, they'll probably take that as proof that I'm not completely stable yet."

"Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. We'll keep in touch by e-mail and cell phone. You can let me know how things are progressing with your folks and tell me what I can do to facilitate your move to Colorado Springs." When Didi sighed with discouragement, he put his hands on her upper arms, gazed into her eyes, and said, "I know it'd be rough for a little while, but . . . what choice would we really have? As you pointed out, we can't exactly tell them the truth. We have to deal with the situation as best we can on our end, while making it believable to your parents. Whatever we have to do, we'll do. One way or another, we'll find a way to . . . 'meet'—even if it's at the grocery store or . . . McDonald's."

"I know you're right. It's just . . . such a pain!"

"Yes, it is. But we'll manage. We have a plan—more or less—and we will find a way to get together. As much as I hate it, we're going to have to 'date' for a while before we can even get officially _engaged._ Your parents would probably be wary of your falling in love so soon after being abducted. They may think you're still vulnerable and just falling for the first handsome face you see."

"You're right: that's _exactly_ what they'd think. You sound as if you know them."

Cam smiled. "I just know a thing or two about parents. The good ones are pretty much the same anywhere you go. Yours are some of the best, I'm sure, or you wouldn't be who you are."

Didi sighed. "It's complicated living a lie, though, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is—and you're just seeing the tip of a very large iceberg. But, after we're married, nothing that went before will even matter."

"Where should we get married?—Auburn or Topeka?"

"Since you already had a wedding in Topeka—and this is a first for me—why don't we get married in Auburn and have the reception in Topeka? I'm sure there're more and better reception facilities in Topeka than in Auburn, and it's close enough for my folks to get to easily. They won't even have to worry about getting a room for the night—unless they _want_ to."

"How is it we've slipped so easily into talking about getting married already?"

"I guess it comes naturally when you're in love," Cam opined. "When it's real and it's right and you know it, getting married is what you do. . . ." He placed a hand on her cheek, gazed into her eyes and added, "—especially if you don't want the prize of a lifetime to get away." Moving his hand from her cheek to her chin, he raised her head and lowered his own until their lips met; then he kissed her warmly.

When it was done, he said, "Time for my exercise regimen. Got some songs lined up for me?"

"A few. I may think of some more as I go."

Cam released her chin, kissed the tip of her nose, stood up, and said, "Let's move these beds."

Thirty minutes later, after having sweated to some oldies, Cam turned off his watch alarm and said, "That was invigorating. Now for my shower." He walked around the beds toward the bathroom.

"By the way," he said, as he neared the doorway, "we're gonna just leave the beds this time: they may not even bring us back here later. As I said before, I don't know what's gonna happen. So . . . while I'm in the shower, why don't you have another long talk with God?"

"I don't need a long one today. Things haven't changed all that much since I talked to Him last night. I told Him then how much I love you. I haven't yet said my _morning_ prayers, though: I didn't have time, since I was watching you shave. There may be a _few_ things I could mention that I didn't before. . . . But what about you? I thought _you_ were planning to do some praying today, too."

"I will. Between one and two o'clock, that's pretty much _all_ I'm gonna be doing."

"You've prayed before every serious battle you've been in, haven't you, Cam?"

"You found me out," he replied with a smile.

"So, you're not completely agnostic after all."

"No, I'm not. Soldiers in trenches and pilots in dogfights always believe in God, even if it's only for a few hours at a time." He smiled and gave her a casual John Wayne-type salute. "See you in a bit."

As Cam closed the bathroom door, Didi smiled softly, got on her knees and began to pray. When she had finished, she sighed happily. There was no doubt in her mind: God was on their side.

Just as she was getting to her feet, the door opened a crack, someone knocked, and she could hear Daniel Jackson's voice inquire, "Are you two decent?"

"Come on in, guys," she replied.

Cam's colleagues entered the room and looked around.

"It's kind of small and cramped, isn't it?" Daniel observed.

Didi nodded. "Yes, so we usually climb _over_ the beds instead of trying to go around them."

"Where's Cam?" Sam asked.

"Taking a shower."

"Maybe you should've kept the king-sized bed," Vala remarked upon seeing the beds pushed together and Cam's shirt lying on the nearest one.

Didi guffawed. "It's not what you think, Vala. They gave us a huge breakfast and Cam wanted to work it off. We pushed the beds to the back of the room so he could exercise. That's why he's in the shower now. As for the shirt . . . it's the only clean one he's got; he didn't want to exercise with it on."

"A logical decision," said Teal'c.

"Didi!" Cam called from the bathroom.

"Yes, Cam?" she queried, climbing over the beds to get closer to the bathroom door.

"Do you still love me?"

Didi blushed but replied honestly, "Yes, Cam."

"Good, 'cause I—" The door opened and Cam emerged, drying his hair. "Uh, hi, guys," he said, tossing his towel into the bathroom and closing the door. "Didi, why didn't you tell me . . .?"

"I was about to, but you opened the door before I had a chance."

Sam and Daniel looked slightly uncomfortable. Vala was smiling. Teal'c, as usual, raised an eyebrow, but otherwise appeared impassive. Daniel picked up Cam's shirt from off Didi's bed. "Here, Mitchell," he said, tossing it to Cam. "You might want this."

"Thanks, Jackson." Cam caught the shirt in one hand and then slid into it. "So, what brings you guys here?"

"Gor-lak," Daniel said matter-of-factly. "He thought we should spend your 'last hours' with you, as he put it. He seems convinced that you're going to die in the arena."

"Yeah, I know," Cam replied, squeezing past the ends of the beds and joining his friends on the other side of the room. Didi climbed _over_ the beds.

"Say, uh, would you like some help moving those beds back?" Daniel queried.

"I don't really see the point," said Cam, "but if you really want to, then, sure."

"Ladies, if you would be so good as to step aside . . ." Daniel requested.

Didi motioned for the other girls to join her near the corner where they usually threw their dirty clothes. At the moment, the corner was empty, since Gor-lak had once again replaced their dirty clothes with clean ones in the middle of the night.

While Cam and Daniel were moving Didi's bed back into position, Teal'c was on the other side of Cam's bed and pushing it. "Tell me when it is in position, Colonel Mitchell," he requested.

"That's good, right there," Cam said. "As long as the casters are back in their original dents, the beds are in their proper places."

When the job was done, Didi said, "Thanks, guys."

"No problem. Glad to be of service," Daniel replied.

"Speaking of service," said Sam, "we never did thank you for convincing Gor-lak to give us a bathroom and all the stuff we needed. It was great to be able to take a nice hot bath and wash my hair."

"Amen!" said Vala.

"Yeah, and I was glad to finally be able to shave," commented Daniel.

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "Even I found the growth of _too_ much facial hair quite . . . uncomfortable."

"Yeah, me too," said Cam, rubbing his own face. "I shaved this morning, with Didi watching the entire time. And when the Chak-tuk servant brought breakfast, he watched for a little while, too."

"He was absolutely fascinated," said Didi, "and so was I." She approached Cam and caressed his cheek with the palm of her hand. "It's such a handsome face—especially when it's clean shaven." She then removed her hand, stood on tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.

"So, how long has _this_ been going on?" Vala asked. She had a softly wicked smile on her face.

"Not that long," Cam replied in an annoyed tone of voice. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Sorry. One just doesn't expect one's team leader to fall head-over-heels in love overnight."

"Believe me, I wasn't expecting it to happen, either. But when two people spend three days alone together in a locked room with nothing to do but talk, they're bound to get to know each other really well; it's pretty much inevitable." He wrapped an arm around Didi. "Anyway, _we_ certainly did. . . . And, in the process, we fell in love. It's great!" He was smiling.

"Then let's hope you survive long enough to continue this newfound relationship," said Daniel. "Gor-lak told us you're going to be up against something pretty formidable."

"What if I am?" Cam replied with a shrug. "It's just another day at the office."

"Aren't you even a _little bit_ apprehensive?" asked Sam.

"I was, but Didi put in a good word with God, and He's told her everything's gonna be all right." He shrugged again. "I've gotta take her word on that, but, somehow, I believe her." He kissed her on the head again and then told everyone to sit down on the floor. He and Didi took up their usual places on the edge of her bed. They were holding hands, and Didi was gently stroking Cam's arm with her free hand.

For the next couple of hours, SG-1 and its honorary new member talked about what they'd been up to since their last get-together, although Cam and Didi were—not unexpectedly—a bit sketchy as they spoke about their activities of the previous night and this very morning. However, they managed to relate enough of what they'd discussed and what they'd been doing to satisfy the bulk of everyone's curiosity, and the entire group was bowled over by the fact that Didi had actually sung Cam to sleep.

"I can't even _imagine_ that!" said Sam.

"It was great, let me tell ya," said Cam. "Didi has an amazingly soothing voice."

"In other words, I put people to sleep."

"Now, come on! You _know_ that's not what I meant."

She smiled. "I know. I was just cracking a joke at my own expense."

Cam rolled his eyes, shook his head, looked at Didi and asked, "Do you need another noogy?"

"Do you remember what happened the last time you gave me a noogy?"

"Yeah, I do," Cam replied, looking at her tenderly. "It was a very . . . _memorable _moment."

"They really _are_ in love," said Vala. "It's absolutely . . . nauseating."

"Almost," Daniel agreed.

"So, what _did_ happen the last time you gave Ms. Steadman a noogy, Cameron?" Vala asked.

Cam looked down at Vala, deadpan. "Nothing you need to know about. Suffice it to say that the end result of the encounter was that I discovered today is her birthday."

"What?" was the general exclamation. Well wishes and happy birthdays followed.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Sam asked.

"We didn't think about it before. . . . But today's the day, so it's relevant now," said Cam.

"How old are you?" Vala dared to ask.

"Vala . . ." both Sam and Daniel said scoldingly.

Didi smiled. "It's okay. I'm thirty-four."

"Younger than any of us," said Daniel.

"So, I'll have a young bride, and you guys'll all have a kid sister," said Cam.

"That might be rather fun," said Vala. "Sam and I could take her shopping and—"

"We can discuss that later," Cam said cautiously. He wasn't sure he wanted Didi to wear the kinds of clothes he suspected his two female colleagues would attempt to put her in. She was a nice, sweet, down-to-earth girl and he liked her that way.

Fortuitously, the door opened then and a cart was wheeled in, bearing lunch: six bowls of macaroni and cheese. "Crap!" said Cam. "If I eat this, I'll be sick as a dog in the arena."

"When are they taking you?" Daniel asked as he picked up a bowl.

"Around two o'clock, by my watch," Cam replied.

"So, are you gonna skip lunch, like you said?" Didi asked him.

"Since it's mac 'n' cheese, yeah, I think so. I'd rather have a Power Bar or something. Unfortunately, that's not on the menu. If anyone wants my portion of the mac 'n' cheese, you're welcome to it."

The look of concern on Didi's face moved Cam to put his arm back around her, and he held her close to him while she ate. "I'm okay, Dee, really."

"But will you be in _two hours_?"

At that moment, the door opened and Gor-lak walked in.

"I don't know," Cam replied to Didi's query. "But I _do_ know that mac 'n' cheese doesn't always sit well with me, and I'd rather not take a chance under the current circumstances."

"What _would_ you like for your final meal, Colonel?" Gor-lak asked.

"Something light: a Power Bar or a granola bar or something along those lines would be nice."

"I believe I can acquire some such items for you. I shall return shortly."

"Man, you _are_ spoiled!" said Daniel. "He caters to your every whim."

"Ain't it nice," Cam said facetiously. "As far as Gor-lak's concerned, though, I'm a condemned man, so he doesn't mind indulging me on my last day of life."

"That's morbid!" Sam scolded him.

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. I have no intention of dying anytime soon—especially not today. I promised Didi I'd win in the arena as a birthday present for her, and I intend to do just that. It'd be nice to have a little bit of moral support from _you guys_. . . ."

"Sorry, Cam," said Sam. "We're just . . . bemused by this whole situation. What's happening to you—to _both_ of you—is entirely different from what happened to us. We're not quite sure _how_ to react."

"And you think _we_ are?" Cam asked. "We found out two days ago that I'm not going up against a Chak-tuk warrior, but knowing that hasn't made it any easier."

"But you seem to have developed such . . . complete and total trust in each other," said Daniel. "How'd that happen so quickly?—not that I think either of you isn't worthy of that trust . . ."

"When Gor-lak brought us here, Didi and I were virtual strangers, as you well know. What little bit we'd learned about each other back in the other room was basic, and a lot of our impressions about each other were based on the discussions we'd had as a group. So here we were, two strangers, put into a room alone together. . . . We were both decidedly uncomfortable with the whole situation at first. We used humor to ease the tension somewhat and ended up liking each other."

Didi then added, "Being here under such . . . _bizarre _circumstances and knowing we'd be facing danger together gave us common ground. That's probably one of the reasons we bonded so quickly. We knew we were in this together. One thing led to another and we fell in love."

Cam broke in again. "Was it fast? Yes. Was it daunting? Definitely. Is it right? You bet. I've never been more sure of anything in my life. It's the way we feel about each other that's helping us hold it together right now—especially since we have no idea what we'll be facing."

Didi finished her macaroni and cheese and set the bowl down on the cart. "I love you, Cam," she said, placing a hand on his cheek and turning his head to face her.

"I love you, too, Dee," he replied, kissing her briefly. The others couldn't help but see the poignancy in the situation. Any envy or jealousy they might've had over the duo's evident happiness vanished. One slip in the arena, and the relationship between the two lovebirds would be over before it even began.

"My relationship with Sha're began just as quickly," Daniel commented. "Hopefully, though, you two will have a better ending than she and I did."

"I told you: I have no intention of dying," Cam said, turning his attention back to Daniel. "I'm going to win in the arena today, no matter what Gor-lak throws at me. I have to—for Didi's sake."

"It is often surprising what a man can accomplish when he is fighting for the life or the safety of one he loves," Teal'c stated, as he picked up the extra bowl of macaroni and cheese.

"That's the whole point," said Cam. "That's why Gor-lak put us in here and why he's pitting me against something tougher than a Chak-tuk warrior. The folks behind the events want better ratings, and they figured this would be the best way to get 'em."

"Ratings?" Daniel queried, just as the door opened and Gor-lak re-entered the room.

"Here is your food, Colonel Mitchell. I hope it is sufficient for your needs. You are going to require all the strength and energy you can muster if you are going to survive your encounter in the arena this afternoon."

"A _whole box_ of Power Bars? Gee, Gor-lak, you shouldn't have! That's really generous of you."

"We wish you to be at your best, Colonel. Enjoy it, whatever it is." He waved his hand dismissively and departed.

"I don't think it's ratings like we have on Earth for TV shows," Cam said, opening the box. He took out a bar and unwrapped it as he continued, "But there does seem to be some sort of opinion poll taken among the Chak-tuk who are of high rank or standing." Taking a bite, he added, "They apparently voiced their objections to what happened with the four of you." He finished chewing the bite he'd taken and swallowed. "They're not convinced that Didi and I won't cheat, too, so they've demanded that I be pitted against something _so tough_, that even if Didi _were_ to help me, we'd _still_ be hard put to defeat it."

"Is that what Gor-lak told you?" Daniel asked.

Cam nodded, "Yep."

"So, there are people," said Sam, "—or rather, Chak-tuk (I can't really think of them as people)—who actually care that much about how things are done in the arena by aliens like us?"

"Apparently," Cam replied, taking another bite.

"Well," said Daniel, "I guess that explains why Gor-lak was willing to let us have a bathroom, a change of clothing every day, and all the attendant niceties."

"Depending on how I perform today," said Cam, finishing off his first bar, "if the contest is exciting, they may well let us have anything we want—short of going home, that is."

"There shouldn't be any question of 'going home,'" said Sam. "Even if they buried the 'gate, a ship should've been here by now, picked up the signals from our subcutaneous transponders and beamed us up." She shook her head. "Something's not right."

"Indeed," commented Teal'c. "I, too, have felt that something is amiss. It is unusual for General Landry to wait this long before attempting a rescue."

"You think Gor-lak's been in contact with Earth and hasn't told us?" Daniel inferred.

"I think it's possible," said Sam. "Maybe they've been negotiating for our release."

"Even so, what could Earth possibly offer that'd be of any use to the Chak-tuk?" Daniel asked.

"Not a heck of a lot," said Cam, squeezing Didi's hand tighter and looking at her with concern before returning his attention to his colleagues. "I'm pretty sure General Landry would've mounted a rescue mission by now if there were any conceivable way of pulling it off. But considering the Power the Chak-tuk elders have—and I don't doubt they would've demonstrated it if necessary—the IOA would've probably advised the general not to go to war with the Chak-tuk over the capture and imprisonment of five individuals, when the entire planet could be at risk."

"The only chance we'd have, then," said Vala glumly, "is if he sent in a surgical extraction team, without the knowledge of the IOA."

"They'd have to be a darned good team with awesome stealth capability to pull it off," said Cam.

"Which means that it may take some time to devise a plan which would accomplish that objective," said Teal'c.

"But won't the Chak-tuk be on the alert for something like that?" Sam asked. "With the Power they have, they could deploy various types of defensive measures around the perimeter of the Stargate, as well as something _offensive_ to take down a ship that shows hostile intent. They might even have motion sensors around both of our rooms to pick up anything that isn't Chak-tuk."

"And they could use their rods to nullify them whenever we're taken in or out of a room," Vala suggested.

"This is all just conjecture, guys," said Daniel. "The fact is, we don't have any _idea_ what's been happening on Earth. For all we know, the Chak-tuk could've cloned us and another SG-1 is already back at home, safe and sound. If that were the case, they wouldn't even know we're missing."

"Oh . . . my . . . Go—sh," said Cam slowly. "That's what Gor-lak meant."

"What'd he say?" Sam asked with a furrowed brow.

"I suggested he send us home and uncomplicate his life," Cam explained. "He said it wasn't possible—that he'd tell me why sometime soon."

Didi was looking at her thumb. "A drop of blood . . ." she murmured.

"So, we _are_ clones?" It was a half-question, half-statement from Vala.

"Or _we_ could be the originals and the ones who went home are the clones," suggested Daniel. "It is possible that they programmed them to spy on the earth and report back to them."

"Now you're just being paranoid," opined Sam. "The Chak-tuk have no reason to send spies to Earth. Have you forgotten? They scanned our memories! They know everything about Earth's offensive and defensive capabilities that _we _know. Anyway, even if they didn't, with the Power they possess, what kind of threat could Earth possibly pose to them? And, as Cam said, we have nothing to _offer_ them. . . ."

"You're right," Daniel averred. "It was just a . . . thought."

"I am a clone," said Didi matter-of-factly. "I have been all along."

For the first time in several minutes, everyone was paying attention to the newcomer.

"I considered that possibility when you told us how everything went dark after you pricked your thumb," said Sam.

"Can they do that?" Cam queried. "Can they actually make a clone from a single drop of blood?"

"With the technology and the Power the Chak-tuk possess, who knows?" Sam replied.

"That would explain why there was no polish on my toenails," said Didi, as though she were in a trance. She looked up at Cam. "I _told_ you I'd painted them, Cam. I _told _you . . . ." She rolled off the far side of her bed, over his, and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

"Nice," said Cam sarcastically. "Thanks, guys, for ruining the girl's birthday—as if it wasn't bad enough already." He swung his legs around and made his way to the bathroom door. He knocked. "Didi, we're just hypothesizing here. We don't have any real proof one way or the other—"

"Yes, we do!" she yelled. "We have plenty of proof. You're just trying to mollify me. _It won't_ _work!_ I wanted to go home, Cam. I wanted to see my parents again; my brother and my sister and my nieces and nephews. I wanted our parents—both yours and mine—to come to our wedding. Now . . . it's not gonna happen—_any _of it." She was sobbing. It tore Cam apart to hear her.

"Didi . . . let me in, hun. Clone or no clone, I love you. Nothing's going to change that."

The sobbing continued, but the door opened a crack. Cam looked at the others. "'Scuse me." He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. He understood now, fully, what the voice in his head had meant when it said he was all she had. It couldn't've been more true.

Didi was in his arms instantly. "I don't _want_ to be a clone, Cam! My life might not've been very exciting, but it was _my life_! My friends, my family . . . they're not _mine_, **any** of them! How do I accept that?"

"You're not alone, you know," Cam told her. "If what you're saying is true, then we're probably _all_ clones, as Jackson suggested. _None_ of us can go back to our old lives. We _all_ had friends and family, just like you. We can never go back to the SGC; we can never again travel through the Stargate. We are, all six of us, in this together. We might as well make the best of it."

"How?" Didi demanded petulantly.

"Somehow, some way, we'll find an answer; we'll find a way to leave this world—find a place we can call home. I promise you that. We are _not_ gonna live the rest of our lives with these monstrosities who created us."

The sobbing subsided and she looked up into his face. "If I didn't have you . . . if I didn't know how much you love me, I'd be the most desolate person in the universe right now." She let out a short laugh as her hands found the wet spot in front of her. "I'm soaking your shirt."

Cam smiled lightly. "Don't worry about it. They're only tears." He lifted her chin with his hand and gazed into her eyes lovingly. "No matter what happens, Dee, I will never leave you."

"I love you, Cam."

"And I love you, Didi. No amount of scientific fact is going to change who we are. Even if we know _intellectually_ that we're clones, inside, where it counts, we're still us. We have the memories of our originals—their entire lives.

"They were stunned the moment they stepped through the 'gate. That's the last thing I remember before waking up in the other room. The last thing _you _remembered was pricking your thumb. It seems pretty obvious, knowing what we do now, that it was a Chak-tuk who pricked your original's thumb. He must've been cloaked so no one could see him. There was probably a cloaked ship in orbit, too. If I get half a chance, I'm gonna slice the Chak-tuk responsible to ribbons."

"We'll never get out of here if you do that, Cam, and you could get yourself killed—which would pretty much ruin the rest of _my_ life." She sighed, calmer now. "Let's just go with the flow and see what happens." She gazed into his eyes and said, "I know this is an about-face from the way I've been acting, but a feeling just came over me that God will provide a way for us to leave here if we have patience and wait for the right opportunity."

"You know what? I believe you. The Chak-tuk might've _made_ us, but, as you said before, God is _aware _of us. He told me that I'm all you've got. I didn't understand what that meant until now."

"When did He tell you that?"

"While you were bathing that first night. I told Him thanks for sending you to me—that you're great and that I'd take good care of you. He said, 'See that you do. You're all she has.' Puzzled the heck out of me until now."

"I had a similar experience while _you_ were in the tub last night. I asked God if you and I were 'meant to be.' He sighed. _Sighed, _of all things! Then He said this is an unusual circumstance and it's up to _us_ to decide if we're meant to be." She shook her head. "I didn't know what to make of that, either."

"He's been aware of our plight from the moment we were . . . _born_, I guess you could call it."

"As you said, clones or not, we're still us."

"So, do you feel better?"

"A little. It's still gonna take some getting used to, but . . . as long as I have you, I'll be okay—more or less."

"Ready to go back out there? Remember, the rest of the guys are probably feeling just as disoriented as you are."

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. I was being self-indulgent again. I'm sorry."

"It's your birthday, and things aren't exactly turning out the way you'd expected them to—in _any_ way. You have good reason to be a bit . . . moody."

"Do you know how incredible you are, Cameron Mitchell? Kiss me once, good and hard, before we go out there. . . ."

"With pleasure." The kiss lasted a good three minutes. They were both breathless by the time it ended and Cam was ready for another cold shower. Their friends were waiting for them, however, and Cam's watch told him they had less than an hour before Gor-lak would come to get them and take them to the arena. So much for the time he had intended to spend praying . . . .

He opened the bathroom door and let Didi exit ahead of him.

"Are you okay, Didi?" Daniel asked with concern written all over his face.

She nodded. "I'll be okay. It's just . . . not quite the birthday I had in mind, you know? Cam is the best thing that ever happened to me, and we love each other. Clones or not, we're us. Right now, I've gotta focus on that."

Sam nodded. "We've pretty much been saying the same things—although not in quite the same way. We're all friends—colleagues. Even if we never get the chance to go back to Earth, we'll still have each other. We should be grateful for that."

"_I _certainly am," said Vala. "If I truly am a clone, at least I'm in good company."

"Indeed," said Teal'c, "we are most fortunate to be together in this circumstance. If the Chak-tuk had made a clone of only one of us, that clone would undoubtedly be in a great deal more distress than we have been _as a group _up to this point in our captivity."

"One thing's for dang sure," said Cam, "knowing what I know now has given me all the impetus I need to whack the snot out of whatever unfortunate, misbegotten beast they happen to throw at me in the arena. I pity it, whatever it is."

"Do not let your anger be too evident, Colonel Mitchell," said Teal'c. "It may be unwise to alert Gor-lak to our knowledge of the truth at this juncture. If he realizes that we are intelligent enough to have figured it out on our own, he may fear reprisal—or, at the very least, unpleasant repercussions."

"Yes," said Daniel, "and then he might clamp down on us to make certain we don't do anything foolish . . . like trying to escape."

"Meaning," said Didi, as she climbed across Cam's bed and took a seat on her own, "that if we really _do_ want to try to escape, we have to act as though we're still expecting a ship to come for us."

"Pretty much, yeah," Daniel affirmed.

"So, business as usual, then," said Cam, joining Didi on her bed, "—outwardly, anyway."

"Until Gor-lak chooses to tell us the truth himself," said Sam, "—whenever that might be."

"I think I'll gnaw another Power Bar," said Cam. "My stomach's churning like an old washing machine right now. I need to give it something else to do, or I'll end up getting an ulcer."

"Mind if I have one?" Daniel asked, pointing at the box Cam held. "The mac and cheese wasn't very filling."

"No, go right ahead. I don't need the whole box. Sam, Vala—you two can share one. I might need the other one for a quick pick-me-up after the event. _Teal'c_ ate my share of the mac and cheese, so I don't think _he_ really needs one all that badly."

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement, saying nothing.

"So, what's the plan, then?" Sam asked.

Cam looked at her askance. "Do you mind if I win my event in the arena before we start trying to make escape plans? One thing at a time, here!"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Gor-lak came in then. Everyone tried to look as nonchalant as possible, showing only their concern for Cam's safety in the arena. If the elder felt the change in the atmosphere since his last visit, he gave no indication of it.

"Have you had sufficient time to say your goodbyes to your friends, Colonel Mitchell?" he inquired with smug arrogance.

"More than enough, thanks. But I suggest you take some time to say _your_ goodbyes to whatever it is I'm gonna be fighting in there, 'cause I am hot-blooded and r'arin' to go."

"Are you indeed? I am glad to hear it. Perhaps you will give us a fight worth seeing after all. Finish your Power Bar, then, and we'll depart. Your colleagues will be taken ahead to the overlook while you and Miss Steadman change into your costumes."

After finishing his Power Bar, Cam went to get his boots and socks, but Gor-lak said, "There is no need for you to put on your boots, Colonel. You and Miss Steadman will be provided with footwear suitable to your respective costumes."

"Well, let's go, then."


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9: ARENA

As the group stepped outside the door, two armed guards flanked Sam, Daniel, Vala and Teal'c, while Gor-lak shepherded Cam and Didi.

The walk down the brightly-lit and almost sterile-looking corridor seemed to last forever. Didi's heart was pounding in her chest. The time had finally come. Her faith in both God and Cam was about to be put to the test. She looked up at her companion's handsome face and squeezed his hand tightly. He gazed down at her and smiled, nodding his head reassuringly.

A few minutes later, they were taken into what appeared to be some sort of dressing room. Didi was then forcefully separated from Cam—meaning that her hand was pulled quite roughly from his—and she was directed to enter a curtained cubicle, where some sort of small, leather-like outfit was lying on a hard slab. Didi had no idea what the slab was made of, and she didn't really care. She picked up the article of clothing, looked it over appraisingly and said, "Oh my!"

To Didi, who was a big _Dr. Who_ fan, the outfit looked almost exactly like the one worn by Leela, a companion of the fourth Doctor, whom he had referred to as "little savage." There was even a pair of boots similar to those Leela had worn.

Didi gulped, swallowing a huge lump in her throat. The fact that she was going to have to stand in front of Cam wearing this outfit was the most unsettling thought of all. It didn't matter to her what the Chak-tuk thought: they weren't human. _But Cam . . . ._

When she emerged a few minutes later, she was blushing from head to toe. The revealing outfit was all of one piece and was about the length of a "mini-dress": i.e., it covered her posterior and maybe two to three inches of her upper thighs. It had short, short sleeves that barely covered her shoulders, and a plunging neckline that ended in a laced-up bodice. She had pulled the leather straps as tight as she could, but there was still more cleavage showing than she was comfortable with—and she was a good deal more buxom than Leela had been.

_What could've possessed these alien monstrosities to put her into such an outfit? Was it meant to influence Cam?—to give him an extra incentive to win his event?_ It was for darned sure she wouldn't've done any fighting while wearing it, even if she'd known how.

Cam was dressed in an outfit that resembled the costume Kevin Sorbo had worn when he played Hercules. The flexible leathern pants were tight enough to reveal the muscular outline of his legs, but loose enough to allow him to move freely.

His saffron-colored cloth shirt was completely sleeveless and—except for some laces which Cam had not bothered to tie—was open from the neck to the center of his chest. He also wore a pair of boots similar to those worn by Kevin Sorbo. They had thick, solid soles, with ridges for good traction.

As Cam and Didi looked at each other in their respective costumes, they both seemed a bit embarrassed, although Didi sensed that _Cam's_ embarrassment was for _her_ rather than for himself. "So, that's how they're playing this, huh?" he said compassionately. "They're hedging their bets." He shook his head. "They could've put you in a pair of oversized _coveralls_ and it wouldn't've made any difference."

Didi smiled warmly. _Why had she worried about how he would react? He loved her_._ Of course he would behave gallantly—no matter what he might actually be _thinking.

"Well," she said, "you wanted to see my legs . . . ."

Cam smiled. "Yes, I did; I just didn't expect to see quite so much of them."

Gor-lak indicated in no uncertain terms that it was time to go. Once again the duo fell into step behind the Chak-tuk and followed him—this time to the arena. Didi was in deep contemplation as they walked.

Each day when he was exercising in their room—although she'd never mentioned it to him—she'd spotted a few scars on his chest; some were still visible between the laces. She was well aware that this kind of combat was not new to him. Still, if she hadn't received reassurance while she was praying, she would've been terrified right now. She wanted more than anything for him to succeed. Just for good measure, she prayed once more with all her might that he would. The feeling of peace returned.

The Chak-tuk elder stopped just outside the participants' entrance to the arena and indicated that Cam and Didi should go inside. To their left, as they entered, were six gradient tiers of bleachers, filled to capacity with Chak-tuk warriors. Gor-lak instructed the couple to stand back against the wall, next to the stairwell that led up into those bleachers.

As they took their places against the wall, Didi's first thought upon seeing the huge room was that "arena" was a misnomer: there was nothing the least bit round about it. It was more like a gigantic gymnasium, with an almost cathedral-type ceiling.

"You will have the privilege of witnessing a battle between two of our finest warriors before your own event takes place," Gor-lak informed them.

While waiting for the first challenge to begin, Didi looked around and took in more details of the enormous hall. To their left, as they stood with their backs to the wall, she saw another six tiers of seats; all were filled to capacity with Chak-tuk elders. To their right—and at about the same level as the third tier of seats—Didi spotted the rest of SG-1. They were standing in what Gor-lak had referred to as the "overlook": an open area without seats—apparently off the main hallway—where any Chak-tuk passing through the building on other business could stop and watch the proceedings for a few minutes if they so chose. Below the overlook was a glistening, off-white wall, adorned with banners and symbols that had meaning only for the Chak-tuk. The floor of the vast complex seemed to consist entirely of the same mat material as the floors in their two cells. That made sense. It was tough, durable . . . and—like just about everything else Didi had seen—inescapably white. _It had better be washable, then, too,_ she mused.

To Didi's mind, the most amazing thing about this place was how utterly and purely _white_ everything was. _Why do creatures such as the Chak-tuk want to make everything white? Is it because they call themselves "God's Chosen Children," and, like many people on Earth, equate white with purity and holiness? _She shook her head. _Why,_ she then asked herself, _do I even care?_

A fanfare sounded over the P.A. system and two big, burly Chak-tuk warriors entered the arena via the same doorway through which Cam and Didi had come. They were already pushing and jostling each other, posturing like a pair of great apes. They came close to shoving each other into the two humans. Cam shielded Didi with his body, just in case. Gor-lak castigated the warriors and barked orders at them in the Chak-tuk tongue, which he did not bother to have his rod translate for the earthlings.

The two warriors were forced to stand between four and five feet apart after that, and they waited impatiently while arms-bearers of the servant caste brought them their weapons. The bigger of the two—a much larger warrior overall than his opponent—was given a huge, two-headed, two-handed axe. The other received something that looked like a cross between a mace and a morning-star. It was a large two-handed club with three chains coming out of it, each with a spiked ball about the size of a softball at the end. The spikes were long and extremely pointy. Seeing them up close, Didi was sure that they were designed to tear the flesh from their victim, not to merely gouge it.

"Oh, Cam," she said, "I don't think I wanna watch this. It's going to be horrible; I can feel it."

Cam's voice was tight. "I think you're right. The big one has blood in his eyes." He moved to stand in front of Didi so that he could shield her from what he sensed was going to be a bloodbath. He faced outward nonetheless so that he could watch the proceedings himself. Didi, meanwhile, wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back. Cam smiled softly and placed his arms over hers.

Gor-lak, his back to the couple, said, "The larger one is Kon-tork. He is the challenger. Tar-dok, the champion, may be smaller, but he has already won three events and claimed three mates. He has the right to claim as many as five. Once a champion wins five events, he retires from the games, undefeated, and is paid an annual salary commensurate with his proven skills."

"Personally," said Cam, "I don't think Tar-dok is going to live to claim wife number four. Kon-tork looks like a cold-blooded killer to me. He won't give any quarter or show even an ounce of mercy."

"Which is as it should be," said Gor-lak. "Mercy is a weakness. If a warrior cannot properly defend himself, he has no right to live."

Cam would have enjoyed arguing that point with the Chak-tuk, but the contenders were being announced to the audience. As Cam looked out, he saw that they were now in the arena. In the very center of the huge hall, a Chak-tuk female—evidently of the warrior caste—was tied to a pole, facing the overlook. The pole was about ten inches in diameter, made of some sort of metal, and painted white. The ropes that bound her to the pole were wrapped around her neck, waist, knees and ankles. Her arms and hands were free.

The warriors moved into position about fifty yards from the female—equidistant from both her and the overlook. The other clones had a good view of the proceedings.

When the signal—a shrill siren—was sounded, the two warriors squared off and the battle began.

It was, as both Cam and Didi had expected, a very bloody battle. Tar-dok gave as good as he got for the first few minutes, ripping into Kon-tork with the giant morning-star and tearing parts of his scaly hide to ribbons. His larger opponent, however, had more stamina and was able to wield his axe very effectively against Tar-dok. Green blood flowed from deep gashes all over the champion's body. Finally, weakened by loss of blood, he fell to his knees, dropping his weapon. Kon-tork then swung his great axe and beheaded him. A cacophony of shouting, cheering and booing rang throughout the great hall.

As the new champion approached the pole, ready to claim his prize, the female called to one of the armed guards standing nearby. When he drew near, she grabbed his sidearm from its holster, turned it on herself and pulled the trigger. The weapon was a blaster. It blew a hole in her abdomen big enough for Kon-tork to put his fist through.

"Oh . . . my God!" Cam breathed.

"What happened?" Didi asked.

"The female just used the blaster of one of the guards to blow a hole in herself. I guess Kon-tork wasn't her type."

"This was . . . totally unexpected," said Gor-lak. His voice was calm but had an edge to it.

Kon-tork was now screaming with rage, striking with his axe at every Chak-tuk who happened to be anywhere in his vicinity. Not even the toughest of the guards could stop him. He was making his way rapidly toward Gor-lak.

"It's like he's on steroids or something," said Cam.

As Kon-tork drew near, Gor-lak used his Power and brought the warrior to his knees, forcing him to drop the axe. He looked into the creatures eyes critically and called out something, his rod amplifying it so that everyone in the audience could hear. He then placed the tip of the rod against Kon-tork's chest. The warrior began to shake uncontrollably. Seconds later, he dropped to the floor, dead.

"You were right, Colonel Mitchell," Gor-lak said, as guards came to take away the corpse of the fallen contender. "He was on what you call 'steroids' or something like them, if my rod translated your meaning correctly. His eyes were as red as human blood. Such is the sign of illicit use of certain types of performance enhancing drugs."

"Steroids build up body mass, especially muscle," Cam told him. "They're generally forbidden among competitors where _we_ come from, too, but that doesn't stop some people from using them. It's called cheating."

"And that is precisely why I took his life. An example must be made. Cheating of any kind will not be tolerated."

By now, the bodies of Tar-dok and the female had also been removed, and crews of servants were cleaning up the mess of green blood that seemed to be everywhere.

"What's going to happen to Tar-dok's three mates?" Cam found himself asking.

"Because Tar-dok was killed by an opponent who was cheating, they shall either receive a stipend for the remainder of their lives, or they may choose to be presented as a prize in the games once again, hoping to win the favor of another worthy mate."

"Sounds reasonable," Cam replied.

"It will be your turn in just a few more minutes, Colonel," Gor-lak said. "I hope that you are prepared. It is good that an opponent was chosen for you that will prove formidable, or the audience could become extremely . . . restive—particularly in the aftermath of such a spectacle. A tame fight would hold no appeal for them at this point." He looked sideways and asked, "How is Miss Steadman faring?"

"I'm fine," Didi spoke up from behind Cam. "I just didn't want to watch the slaughter. I'm not that bloodthirsty."

"Then I'm glad that Colonel Mitchell shielded you from the proceedings." The P.A. system came on again. "Ah!" said Gor-lak. "The announcement is being made that your event will begin shortly."

He turned toward the doorway and motioned for the waiting arms-bearers to give Cam his assigned weapons. Didi released her hold on Cam so that he could move forward to receive them. A belt with a sheathed short sword was strapped around his waist, a quiver of arrows was slung across his back, and what appeared to be an English longbow of medieval design was held out to him. He took it left-handed and chuckled. "So, am I Hercules?—or Robin Hood?"

"Maybe a little of both," Didi said with a smile. But the smile was short-lived, as Gor-lak barked out orders to two strong-armed Chak-tuk guards, who took hold of Didi and escorted her to the pole in the center of the arena. Just as the Chak-tuk female had been, Didi was fastened securely to the pole. There were two differences, however: instead of being tied around the neck and waist with her hands left free, Didi's arms were brought back around the pole and her wrists were bound together behind it.

The second difference was that Didi was facing the far wall—the same wall that she and Cam had been facing during the previous event. In the center of that wall was a pair of immense floor-to-ceiling doors that reminded Didi of the entrance to the Emerald City in _The Wizard of Oz_.

Gor-lak nodded at Cam, indicating that it was time for him to make his formal appearance. With his head held high and his right arm raised in greeting—waving at the simultaneously booing and cheering crowd—he ran to the center of the arena.

"Hi," said Cam, as he came to stand beside Didi, "fancy meeting you here." Despite the trepidation that was beginning to take hold of her, she couldn't help smiling a little. Cam managed to retain his sense of humor even in these potentially perilous circumstances.

He was watching the massive double doors and awaiting the entrance of whatever foe he would have to face in Didi's defense. Realizing this, her heart began to race. She looked at him intently and he returned her gaze. "It'll be okay, Didi," he said. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you . . . or me, either, for that matter. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it."

Suddenly, the floor began to shudder. Cam and Didi both turned their attention back to the large entryway in front of them. "Oh, crap!" said Cam.

Didi's mouth dropped open and she sputtered out, "C-c-cam! . . . That thing is . . . it's _huge_!"

Cam sighed. "Yeah. Wouldn't you know it? Sam and Vala helped the other guys whip the snot out of a couple of Chak-tuk warriors, but I'm on my own against a freakin' _dinosaur_. If I ever get my hands on Gor-lak when he's got his back turned, I'm gonna—"

He was cut off by the immediate danger the giant reptile in front of him presented. The creature in question did indeed look like some sort of dinosaur, but was unlike anything either of them had seen in books, displays, or films that depicted the ancient reptilian denizens of Earth. It appeared to be about twenty feet long, give or take a foot or two—around the size of a stegosaurus, Cam thought, but without the plates on its back. Its head was about four times the size of a stegosaurus's, and it had teeth resembling those of a tyrannosaurus rex. Cam had been intensely fascinated by dinosaurs as a boy and knew a great deal about each and every species. He would've loved for paleontologists back on Earth to get a gander at this monster.

Whatever the creature's size or attributes may have been in relation to _Earth's_ dinosaurs mattered little to _Didi_, however. She had never before been face to face with anything quite so big, and she hoped she never would be again.

Cam, on the other hand, was a different story. He and his companions (as they had told Didi) had gone toe-to-toe with a dragon before—and it had been much bigger than this creature. But getting rid of it had been a matter of _brain_ rather than _brawn_. It had taken Daniel's knowledge of Arthurian lore and the Ancient tongue to van(qu)ish the creature.

Entering ahead of it, the "keepers" of the giant beast—one on each side of it—carried long poles with clamps on the ends; the clamps encircled the creature's neck. Once the beast was fully inside the arena, they pushed levers on their respective poles, releasing the clamps. The duo then got out of its way as quickly as they could, trying desperately to avoid its gaping maw and slashing tail. One of them didn't quite succeed and was flung by the giant tail against the far wall to Cam and Didi's right. He slumped, unconscious, to the padded floor. A human would have been killed by the combination of both the blow from the tail and the impact of the wall. Fortunately for the Chak-tuk, he was made of tougher stuff.

"Cam . . ."

He sighed heavily. "I know, Didi. I know. I'll be careful. I don't wanna be that thing's lunch."

After disposing of one of its keepers and not seeing the other one slide out the door behind it, the huge beast turned its attention to the two humans in front of it. It emitted a low, throaty growl and tipped its head from side to side, as though it were taking their measure in some way. _Are they dangerous?_ it seemed to be wondering. _Would they taste good?_

Appearing to have made up its mind, the creature looked at Cam and roared loudly, almost deafening both humans. It then began to stride heavily toward the helpless woman tied to the pole. It had at least two hundred feet to cover. But, being as big as it was, it could get there pretty quickly—especially if it was really, really _hungry_.

Cam had a feeling that the roar had been a warning to him to stay out of the beast's way while it had its lunch. It didn't seem to feel that Cam and his weapons were much of a threat. In the more honest part of his own heart, Cam tended to agree. But he wasn't about to just stand there and let the thing attack Didi—even if it meant that _he_ became lunch instead.

"Cam," Didi said in a shaky voice, "use some arrows—in its mouth."

"That's just what I was thinking," said Cam. He'd seen it numerous times in movies: some intrepid hero-type would shove a stick, an arrow or a sword into the gaping maw of a dragon or a dinosaur, preventing it from biting down and eating anyone. It didn't always work well with dragons, however, because the fire-breathing beast would simply burn up the wood, which would crumble and fall from its mouth. A sword usually worked better with dragons, but only if there was more than one person around to fight the thing. Because this wasn't a dragon, Cam didn't want to sacrifice his sword to the creature's mouth—especially since there was no one else around to help . . . and he might need the blade later on to deliver the fatal blow. It would have to be arrows. _A group of at least six should do nicely, _he thought, drawing some from the quiver._ But how . . ._

"Use the lace in your shirt to tie them into a bundle," Didi called out, seeing the questioning look on his face.

Cam nodded. But Didi was running out of time: the dinosaur was getting closer.

With speed and agility that were second nature to the fighter pilot, Cam pulled the lace from his shirt and held it between his teeth, while slicing the lace in half on the tip of an arrow. He then tied the bundle together at both ends of the shafts. It was _not_ easy. He was wishing he had another pair of hands.

With that achieved, Cam stepped in front of the beast at the last possible _safe_ moment; any longer and Didi would've been a goner. His heart was racing. The monster roared loudly at him, demanding that he get out of the way or be eaten himself. _Perfect timing!_ Cam quickly thrust the bundle of arrows—tips pointed upwards—into the reptile's wide open mouth, directly behind its huge, jagged teeth.

The beast tried to roar again—this time with real anger—but couldn't get its mouth open any further. It shook its great head, growling and hissing with rage. Cam, in the meantime, had nocked an arrow into the bow and was trying to aim for the creature's left eye. "Call out to it, Dee!" he yelled. "Get it to stop shaking its head and to look at you, so I can shoot it in the eye!"

Didi nodded her head and yelled, "Come here, you big ugly beast! Come and get me if you can!"

Despite its inability to close its mouth, the creature was maddened enough to pay Didi heed and turned its full attention to her. As it did so, Cam took careful aim and let the arrow fly. "Bull's eye!" he cried triumphantly. He then grabbed another arrow and nocked it, while simultaneously running to the other side of Didi, hoping to get a shot at the thing's remaining eye.

"I don't think it's gonna stand still for another shot, Cam," Didi said loudly, trying to be heard above the roar of the enraged beast and the yelling of the crowd.

"I'm afraid you're right," Cam shouted back. "I guess I'm gonna hafta climb onto its back and try to stick the sword into its brain."

"What? You're a bronc rider, too?" Didi asked incredulously. "He'll throw you in two seconds flat!"

"What do you suggest, then?"

"Well, I don't know. . . . Maybe . . . maybe since its mouth is already open, you could reach up and stab it through the soft tissue at the back, and straight up into the brain cavity from there."

"With him moving around like that? Are you crazy?" He paused, thinking, while the beast continued to shake its head in agony, all the while roaring with increasing anger.

_Another arrow!_ Cam thought. _It might take two or three to do the job, but I've still got at least half a dozen left. . . ._

Brainstorming and full of hope, Cam dropped to the floor and gazed up into the gaping maw of the giant creature above him. "Call to him again, Dee!"

Comprehending what Cam was about to attempt to do, Didi did has he requested and called out to the beast once again. "Look at me, you stupid beast! Look at me! I'm still here and I'm still alive! Look at me, idiot!"

Even if the creature didn't understand the words, it seemed to understand the tone of Didi's voice and knew that it was being mocked. It glared down at her with its remaining good eye, growling angrily. At the exact moment that it turned its head to look at Didi, Cam got a terrific view of the inside of its mouth and let the arrow fly. _A perfect hit!_ The shaft flew up through the soft tissue and into the beast's brain cavity, stunning it. Cam then shot three more arrows into the same area, and they, too, entered the creature's brain. It was huffing and shrieking as the spark of life began to leave it. In what seemed like slow motion, it toppled to the floor, shaking the entire arena as it fell. A few minutes later, its breathing ceased completely and its remaining good eye closed forever.

Cheers and jeers alike ascended to the ceiling of the huge room, and Cam exhaled a giant sigh of relief. It was over. He had protected his lady fair, and they had both lived to tell about it.

He got to his feet, walking unsteadily to the pole. Drawing the sword for the first time, he sliced through Didi's bonds and freed her. With a smile of elation, she threw her arms around his neck and held onto him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. She felt _so_ good in his arms . . .

"I love you, Didi."

"I love you, too, Cam."

Without realizing it, the duo had become surrounded by Chak-tuk guards, all of them brandishing firearms which were poised to blast them on command.

Gor-lak ordered one of the guards to take Didi to the left, and two others to take Cam to the right.

"Cam!" Didi called out. "No!" she shouted at the Chak-tuk guard who had hold of her arm. "I'm not going!" She tried to plant her feet firmly on the floor, but the mat was too slippery and her leathern boots had no traction. As her feet slipped, however, they got in the way of those of the guard, and she did manage to trip him. He fell clumsily to the floor. Once he was down, Didi jumped onto his back with all of her might and _continued_ jumping until Cam came to her rescue (having already dispatched—with his sword—the two guards Gor-lak had put on him). He stabbed the downed guard through the back, pinning him to the mat. The crowd was roaring—whether with excitement or rage, Cam couldn't tell.

After releasing his hold on the sword hilt, Cam approached Gor-lak with a swagger that would've done John Wayne proud and said, "She's with me now, Gor-lak. I lay claim to her, as is my right. I won this event fair and square, with no help from anyone. Give her to me, Gor-lak, and I might let you and your people live, once our ship comes for us." _Keep up the pretense, _Cam told himself.

"Your ship?" Gor-lak repeated, amused. "That would be interesting to see."

"We have four, actually—with Goa'uld and Asgard teleportation technology. Burying the 'gate to prevent others from coming to get us only delayed the inevitable. We _will_ be leaving here—in a matter of days. So get used to it. And let me have the girl."

Gor-lak nodded. "Take her. As you say, you won the right. She is your mate—for life." The ugly visage of the Chak-tuk elder wore that smug look that had become so familiar to them over the past three days. Cam knew Gor-lak was hiding something other than the fact that they were clones, but he was too tired at the moment to try to figure out what. All he wanted to do right now was to take Didi back to their room and hold her.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10: ANGUISH

Gor-lak called for two new guards to join him in escorting Cam and Didi from the arena. They were returned to their own room, where they found that their twin beds had been replaced by the king-sized bed that was there before.

"You brought it back?—that quickly?" Cam asked.

"Indeed," said Gor-lak, "it was easily done." He then looked pointedly at the couple. "You are mated now. There should be no more need for separate beds. I suggest you make the most of your time. You will be appearing in the arena again in three days."

"Not if our ship comes for us first."

"And if a ship were to come, would you leave your mate behind, Colonel Mitchell?"

"Of course not! Why would I?"

"Because you cannot take her from this planet."

Cam's brow furrowed. Didi turned pale. Neither of them had any desire to remain on this alien world with such horrendous creatures as the Chak-tuk. "And why, pray tell, can we not take Didina from this god-awful place?"

"Because, when she was created aboard the ship that brought her here, she was biogenetically engineered with what you might call a failsafe 'tag' that will be triggered the moment she leaves this world. We made her; she belongs to us. The DNA tag is our . . . seal of ownership—and insurance that no other space-going race can take her from us . . . not even you."

"What do you mean, she was created aboard the ship that brought her here?" Cam asked, as if he didn't already know the answer. "She's as human as I am!"

Gor-lak nodded. "Yes, she is. However, she is a clone of the _real_ Didina Steadman, who does indeed come from a city not far from the place you call home. That is one of the reasons she was chosen. Our ship entered Earth's orbit (cloaked, of course); one of our agents was sent (also cloaked) to prick the digit of the real Didina Steadman. He took a drop of her blood, and from it this clone was created. She was complete by the time the ship returned here. We allowed her to remain unconscious until she was able to awaken on her own."

"I'm a clone?" Didi sank to the floor, a look of complete defeat on her face. She shook her head. "That can't be! I know who I am! I'm Didina Steadman! I'm real! I _must_ be! When I woke up Tuesday, I was even wearing the same clothes I'd had on all day!" It was, Cam thought, an Oscar-caliber performance, particularly since she'd already played out the drama just a few hours earlier in this very room.

"By the time the ship returned and you were completed," Gor-lak said, "the real Didina Steadman had placed the items she was wearing into a receptacle for later laundering—some of the blood from her digit having dripped onto them. They were retrieved, cleaned and put on you. After your memory was scanned, the jewelry and footwear were carefully duplicated by means of transmutation."

Cam looked at Gor-lak with loathing and turned his attention back to Didi. He took a seat beside her on the ground, lifted her chin and gazed into her pale blue eyes. "It doesn't matter, Didi. Clone or no clone, you're still you. But at least now we know why you blacked out after you . . . or rather, _she_ had her thumb pricked. She went on with her life and you—"

"I was made from that one drop of blood." She shook her head. "That's incredible!"

"Nonetheless," spoke up Gor-lak, "it is true. However, Colonel Mitchell, since she cannot leave this place, and since you have obviously developed a fondness for her, I may as well tell you that you and your companions are also clones. _None_ of you may ever leave this world."

Cam shook his head determinedly. "That's where you're wrong," he declared. "We'll find a way . . . somehow. We'll _undo_ whatever it was you did to us to keep us here—or we'll make _you_ undo it."

Gor-lak shook his head. "It cannot be undone. The tag is a part of your complete genetic make-up. No one can undo it."

"I don't believe that. I _won't_ believe that."

"You may choose to be skeptical if you wish. But the moment you try to leave this planet—by ship or any other means—you will begin to die . . . very slowly and painfully. It is inevitable."

"Cam . . ." Didi said, a note of desperation in her voice.

"Never mind, Didi. We'll find a way. We _have_ to."

"_You_ will never be able to undo it, if _we_ are unable to. Our technology is far superior to yours. Can you create such perfect clones as we are able to do? No, of course not. Since you cannot leave here, however, there is one other choice you could make," said Gor-lak, still smug.

"What?" Cam asked, getting to his feet and looking at Gor-lak darkly.

"You could give her a child. You would then have something to share with each other. And we would have a new generation of human warriors for the arena."

Didi got to her feet, shook her head and said, "No; that's impossible. I can't have children. I was married before. My husband and I tried for years to have a baby, but to no avail. I'm barren, Gor-lak. My husband left me because of it. There won't be a new generation of humans for your people to watch in the arena." Her voice was vehement, her manner almost as smug as his. Although she suspected he could repair the problem—as Cam had previously suggested—she was wishing now that he couldn't.

"I am afraid you are wrong, Miss Steadman," said Gor-lak. "Anything of that nature would have been corrected when you were created."

"Maybe," said Cam. "But if the guys on the ship didn't _know_ about the problem and had no reason to _look _for it . . ."

Gor-lak growled with extreme displeasure. "Lie down on the bed!" he commanded Didi, afraid that Cam's assessment of the situation might be correct. Didi shook her head stubbornly. "Lie down, or I will kill Colonel Mitchell where he stands!" Gor-lak reiterated with fervor.

Reluctantly, Didi obeyed. The Chak-tuk elder ran his rod over her abdomen in much the same way that the doctors on board the various starships _Enterprise _used their medical tri-corders. "This is a travesty! Whoever was responsible for this oversight will be severely punished!" He then touched the glowing tip of the rod to Didi's lower abdomen. The bulb pulsated.

Didi gasped. "I feel something happening," she said. "It doesn't hurt; it just feels . . . weird."

The rod stopped glowing. Gor-lak stood up. "The anomaly has been repaired," he said calmly. "You may now bear children, Miss Steadman—or should I say, Mrs. Mitchell." He then looked at Cam. "The decision is yours, Colonel. Cooperate, and you may live comfortable lives. Resist, and your battles will become increasingly dangerous."

"I have an option of my own," Cam declared. "We'll defy both logic and Fate and leave this planet—all six of us—healthy and whole."

Gor-lak bowed his head slightly. "Hold onto your stubborn determination if you must, but it will change nothing." He turned to leave, but Cam stopped him.

"Could we at least get our other clothes back? We don't wanna be stuck wearing these ridiculous costumes for the rest of the night."

"You will find clean clothes in the drawers of the dresser, as usual. You may change into them whenever you wish." He walked to the door, then turned around again and said, "One last thing before I go: When would you like your evening meal to be served? We would not want to . . . interrupt anything."

"The usual time, I guess—six o'clock by my watch. As long as we know someone'll be coming, we'll be dressed and ready when they get here."

"'The usual time' it is, then. Now, I must go and see to your friends." He then exited the room, his arrogance wafting in the air behind him.

Said Cam, "He really is planning to keep us here for the rest of our lives."

"I know," Didi said dejectedly, sitting up, "and he'll probably succeed. What chance do we have of finding a world where we can live out our lives in peace if we can't even leave here without dying?"

Cam sat down beside her, lifted her chin again and caressed it with his thumb. "No one's going to die, Dee. We'll do whatever it takes to get those DNA tags removed. We're not going to stay here forever; we can't: we're SG-1. We fight against the odds every day—and we win." He wrapped his arms around her, pressed his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly. He then said, "I know now, even more than I did before, that you're exactly the kind of woman I need in my life."

"A plain, ordinary, regular girl?"

Cam smiled softly. "Yeah—a plain, ordinary, regular girl. It felt good, protecting you. It's what I was meant to do." She responded as she had before: melting in his arms. She was _his_ now, Cam mused . . . under Chak-tuk law, at least. He held her future and her heart in his hands. Sooner or later they would have to face the inevitable struggle for freedom. But for now, at least they had each other.

The rest of SG-1 waited back in their room for word of Cam and Didi, each of them sitting on their own cot. They had been speculating as to the meaning of what they had seen following Cam's solid triumph over the dinosaur.

Cam's impulsive skewering of the guards when they had tried to separate him from Didi had stunned them, even though they understood why he'd done it. Cam was not normally that reckless. But, as Teal'c had pointed out, it was surprising what a man will do when the life of someone he cares about is endangered—and Cam was in love.

What had surprised them even more was that Gor-lak had not used his rod to kill (or at least stun) him on the spot. Perhaps his victory had made Cam a valuable commodity—more valuable than the three guards he and Didi had managed to dispatch. They could only speculate about what he might've said to Gor-lak afterward that had persuaded the Chak-tuk elder to allow the couple to leave the arena together—and speculate they had.

Therefore, when the door opened and Gor-lak entered the room, they were full of questions.

"Where are Colonel Mitchell and Didi?" Sam queried, rising from her cot and approaching Gor-lak. The others followed suit.

"They are . . . together," Gor-lak replied. "Colonel Mitchell demanded the woman for himself. Winning at mortal combat is one of the ways in which mates are obtained in our society."

"Yes, well, it looked to us as though you wanted to separate them after the dinosaur (or whatever that thing was) was slain," spoke up Daniel.

"Indeed, yes. Ms. Steadman had served her purpose. I was planning to have her put in a separate room, alone, and have Colonel Mitchell brought back here."

"What changed your mind?" It was obvious from both his facial expression and the tone of his voice that Daniel already knew the answer to that question.

"Colonel Mitchell was _most_ adamant, and I had no desire to see more blood shed—green or red," said Gor-lak evenly. "Therefore, it seemed the best course of action."

"So, they're having their 'wedding night' now, is that it?" Vala asked, a sly smile on her face.

"That term does not translate into Chak-tuk, but I believe I understand its meaning by context. If I do, then the answer is 'yes.' They are, as I said before, together . . . back in their own room. I came to inform you of that fact. Now I must take my leave."

He turned to go, but when he reached the doorway, he turned around again. "I should probably tell you what I already told Colonel Mitchell and his mate: you are, all of you, clones. There will be no ship coming to take you back to Earth. You have no one and nothing to return to. The real SG-1 went back through the Stargate and got on with their lives. They do not even know that you exist."

"You stunned them when they stepped through the 'gate," Daniel stated. "I remember that." The others all nodded, indicating that they remembered it, too. "Then you brought them here, took some of their DNA, scanned their memories . . . ."

"Quite correct, Dr. Jackson."

"Then what?"

"We placed them, still unconscious, back on the ground in front of the Stargate and waited for them to regain consciousness. Once they did, we told them only that we had scanned their memories and found them to be of no real interest to us, either as enemies or as associates for trade or suchlike. We then demonstrated our Power and persuaded them to go back to Earth and never return. I have no doubt they returned to the SGC with as many questions as your General Landry had, but there were no answers—not for them. We made it clear that if they ever set foot on this world again, we might not be as pacifistic as we were this time."

"And what about us?" Sam queried.

"A genetic marker was engineered into your DNA when you were created, the purpose of which is to prevent your ever leaving here. Should you somehow manage to get off this world, the moment that you do, you will begin to die . . . a slow, agonizing death." With the same arrogant smugness he had shown to Cam and Didi, Gor-lak turned on his heel and—thankfully, not waiting around to see their reactions—left the room.

After the Chak-tuk elder had gone, the four clones returned to their cots. Vala lay on her side, her elbow bent, her head resting on her hand. Daniel sat cross-legged. Sam sat with her knees bent and her arms folded, resting her arms atop her bent knees. Teal'c sat in lotus position.

"So, what do we do now?" Vala asked the group.

"What do you mean, what do we do?" Daniel countered. "Mitchell and Didi are . . . mated now, under local custom. There's nothing we _can_ do until we talk to them again."

Sam shook her head. "I still can't believe Cam fell that hard for someone that fast! She's just an ordinary woman, with an ordinary job and an ordinary life! What could have attracted him to her?"

Vala sighed and sat up, crossing her legs like Daniel's. "Maybe an ordinary girl is exactly what Colonel Mitchell needs. If there's one thing I've learned in all my travels throughout the galaxy, Samantha, it's that _there is seldom any rhyme or reason for love. _It just . . . is. I consider Colonel Mitchell very fortunate to have found someone he can truly care for—_especially_ since it happened so quickly. That is a very rare thing."

"I only hope he doesn't end up regretting it later," Sam commented sourly.

"Give him a break, Sam," said Daniel. "Yes, he tends to be a bit rash from time to time, acting without fully considering the consequences. But he's a . . . _semi_-intelligent man. He's not going to jump into a serious relationship unless his instincts tell him the woman is worth it and can be trusted. Mitchell isn't the kind to fall for a pretty face with no substance beneath it. And, after all the conversations we've had with her, I think Didi _is _a woman of substance, her ordinary background notwithstanding."

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "I believe it will be a good match—for both of them."

"I think Samantha's just jealous," said Vala teasingly.

"No, I'm not. Cam's a friend, nothing more." Unable to admit—even to herself—that what she was _really_ feeling was envy of Cam and Didi because they had each other, while she was stuck on this alien world with no hope of ever seeing Jack O'Neill again, she added, "I'm just a little concerned, that's all. I know they love each other—it's pretty obvious. But sometimes love alone isn't enough. I just wouldn't want them to end up hurting each other."

"I'm fairly certain we all feel the same way," said Daniel, buying into Sam's rationale. "None of us wants to see either of them hurt—particularly now that we know we're probably going to be stuck here for a while."

"For _life_ if we can't find a way to get rid of those DNA markers that Gor-lak claims we have inside of us," Sam said.

"He could be bluffing . . ." said Vala hopefully.

"I do not believe so," opined Teal'c. "His attitude is _not_ that of one who is bluffing."

"No, it's not," Sam agreed, shaking her head. "But I don't know if there's anything any of us can do about the markers. None of us has a degree in medicine or gengineering."

"I'd almost rather take my chances and die off world than to stay here and fight in the arena for the rest of my life," said Daniel.

"Oh, I don't know," said Vala. "I think I'd _enjoy_ fighting in the arena—_if _they let us lowly girls have a go once in a while. So," she continued, "how long till supper? I'm starving!"


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11: POWER

In due course, Didi withdrew from Cam, got up and walked toward the door. She then began rubbing her arms with her hands. Turning back to look at Cam, her eyes pleading for understanding, she said, "I'm sorry, Cam. I can't handle any of this. Even with the time I've had to get used to the idea and to actually _voice_ it, I still can't believe I'm a clone. It was bad enough waking up on an alien planet, surrounded by strangers. But finding out that I'm not who I believed myself to be . . . I can't deal with that."

Cam gazed at her with love and concern. "Even if you are a clone, you still have the real Didina Steadman's memories. What happened to her _technically_ happened to you, too. Her experiences shaped _you_ as much as they did her."

Didi nodded and began to pace the floor, still feeling restless and uneasy. After a few minutes, she stopped in front of Cam. "**I could really use a glass of ice cold refrigerated water right now**.. . ."

No sooner were the words out of Didi's mouth than a blue plastic drinking glass, filled with water, appeared in front of her folded arms. "What the . . ." Cam enunciated, grabbing it before it hit the floor. Some of the water sloshed out of the glass and over Cam's hands. "Dee, did you do this?" he questioned, holding the glass in one hand while shaking the water from the other.

Didi was standing stock still, staring at the glass in Cam's hand, her mouth slightly ajar. "I-I . . . I don't know!" she stammered, looking at Cam with bewilderment. "I guess I _must_ have. When I thought of a glass of water, that's _exactly _what I pictured in my mind! I have some glasses like that at home in my cupboard—or rather, _she_ has some."

"So, you just thought about a glass of water . . . and then it . . . appeared."

"Yeah, I guess so! But how?"

"If _you_ don't know, _I_ sure don't." Cam's brow furrowed as he tried to fathom how and why this could've happened. "Maybe—" he said, as he took the glass to the bathroom to wipe it off with a towel, "maybe when they made you they gave you the Power. I don't know why they would, but—"

Didi shook her head. "I don't think so. If I'd had the Power from the moment I was 'born,' we never would've gone into that arena: my wishing alone would've sent us all back to Earth hours ago. (It would've gone horribly wrong, of course, since we didn't know we were clones and we didn't know about the DNA tags.)"

"Then it must've happened sometime _after_ the event—just recently, in fact." He returned from the bathroom and handed Didi her glass of water; she took a drink. Then an invisible light bulb went on over Cam's head. He snapped his fingers. "It must've happened when Gor-lak used the rod to heal you," he said. "I can't think of any other way—or any other _time—_that it could've happened."

As Didi considered this, opening her mind to the possibilities, she began to nod her head slowly. "Yes," she said, "that's exactly when it happened—and now I know how and why." She gazed earnestly into Cam's eyes. "It's all becoming very clear." She took another long drink.

"Tell me."

"When Gor-lak healed me, he apparently used the same level of Power—the same amount of energy—that he would've used to heal a female _Chak-tuk_ with a similar problem. Not understanding fully the frailty of human physiology, he didn't realize he was using _too much_ Power. Once the anomaly was repaired (along with every scar on my body and some injuries that weren't fully healed yet), the rest of the energy flowed into a specific area of my brain: the part that is believed to be the center of psychic and telekinetic ability in humans. As Daniel told us before, the Power of the Chak-tuk elders comes from the production of a certain enzyme within their brains, and my brain is now producing that enzyme, too."

"So, there's a part of your brain that's similar to that of the Chak-tuk elders' brains?—is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," Didi replied, nodding. "It's a part of the brain that most humans never use, although the _capacity_ for use exists in nearly all of us. The Power was never manifest in the humans that the Chak-tuk encountered anciently because consuming the fruit, in and of itself, was not enough to stimulate production of the necessary enzyme in those who were, evidently, less developed mentally and physiologically than _we_ are. Because I have a somewhat more advanced brain structure than they did, the Power Gor-lak poured into me _did _stimulate production of the enzyme, however, thus enabling me to use the Power."

"It also seems to have increased your intellect by quite a bit," Cam said with some concern. His "ordinary girl" seemed to have suddenly turned into a genius.

Didi shook her head. "No, nothing of the sort. It's just that . . . inherent in the ability to _use_ the Power is an understanding of its nature and its source. I can only explain it in the terms that are being relayed to me by my own psyche." She took another drink of water and offered some to Cam.

"Yeah, thanks," he replied, "although right now I think I could use something a little bit stronger than water."

Didi smiled. "I might be able to teleport something here for you, but Gor-lak would probably be able to smell it and would wonder where it came from."

"You have a point. Mind if I finish off the water?"

"Go ahead. When you're done, I'll send the glass back to my . . . to _my original's_ apartment—clean and dry."

"It's darned good water. Not as good as in Auburn, but good for _city_ water . . . and a heck of a lot better than the crap in these pipes."

"Yeah, the water here is fine for washing and tooth brushing, but . . . it's not too tasty."

"Do you think there's any way you could . . . put in a supply of bottled water?—the good stuff."

"Hm, let me see." She went into the bathroom and examined it. "I suppose we could hide a six pack between the toilet and the sink—on top of the toilet paper package Gor-lak provided us with."

"Sounds good—if we can keep him out of the bathroom."

"If it looks like he's going to go in there—to replace dirty towels, or whatever—I'll send it elsewhere until after he leaves."

"What if he replaces towels while we're out of the room? He replaced the bed and the clothes in the dresser while we were gone. . . ."

"Let me try something . . . ."

"I'm done with the water. . . ."

"Oh, okay." Didi closed her eyes and concentrated. The glass disappeared from Cam's hand. "If I did it right," she said as she opened her eyes and looked at Cam again, "it should've been automatically washed, dried, and put back in the cupboard it came out of."

"Cool."

"Now for the thing I wanted to try . . ."

"Which is . . .?"

"Just wait and see." She closed her eyes. When she opened them, she cried jubilantly, "I did it!"

"What?"

"Look at the bed!"

Cam turned around and looked. "What the . . .? Your pillow's gone!"

"Put your hand down where it used to be."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

With a sigh, Cam did as Didi requested. "Wait a minute! It's still here. I can feel it." He looked at his bride with his mouth slightly agape. "You made it invisible."

"Yep!"

"So, we could pretty much have anything we want in here, as long as you make it all invisible before any Chak-tuk comes into the room, or before we go anywhere."

"I don't know what my limits are yet, Cam. I don't know if, once something is made invisible, it will remain that way on its own; or, if it does, for _how long_."

"So, if we're gone too long, the things you've made invisible could reappear suddenly?"

"I don't know. That's just it. I'll have to experiment a little and find out."

"Maybe you could make something invisible before we go to bed—a small item in the bathroom, maybe—and if it's still invisible in the morning, we'll know we can safely leave things for a few hours."

Didi nodded. "Sounds like a plan. In the meantime, I want to try a couple of _really_ important experiments," she said, closing her eyes and taking time to make her pillow visible again.

Once Didi had opened her eyes, Cam asked, "What are you going to try now?"

"I'm going to see if I can teleport myself to Earth, and what will happen if I do."

"Didi, if Gor-lak was telling the truth . . ."

"Then I'll be back here lickety-split, I promise you. I hate pain."

"Where will you go?"

"My apartment. But don't worry: my original won't know I'm there." She closed her eyes again and said, "**Teleport me to my original's apartment, but not to the same room Didi's in**." In a flash, she was gone. Two seconds later, she was back, pale and doubled over with pain. "Oh crud! Oh crap! Oh it hurts!"

Cam grabbed her arm and sat her down on the edge of the bed. "Take deep breaths," he told her.

She tried to do so. "It's not helping!"

"Can you heal yourself?"

"I don't know!—and I hurt too much to try."

"Well, you've gotta do _something_. If your leaving here set off a reaction that's going to continue until you die . . . Dee—that . . . can't . . . happen."

She took a few more deep breaths and nodded, closing her eyes and probing her nervous system. She found the throbbing pain receptors and soothed them. Then she searched through the strands of her DNA, looking for the one that didn't belong there. "Oh, they're so beautiful!" she exclaimed breathily. "I've never seen anything so . . . magnificent! Pastel shades of every hue, glistening and glowing . . . . There it is, up ahead—the only dark spot in all this bright beauty. It's a deep, dark, angry-looking red."

"Can you remove it?" Cam asked.

"I'm going to try." She squeezed her eyes tighter. "**Disintegrate it!**" she ordered. "It's happening!" she exclaimed. "It's dissipating . . . breaking apart." Her eyelids relaxed a little. "There! It's gone." She opened her eyes and smiled wanly. "I got rid of it, Cam. I got rid of the marker."

"Are you sure?"

"Only one way to find out. . . ."

"Didi, no—!"

But she was gone again—this time for several minutes. Cam swore.

If the pain had returned and increased in severity, she might not be able to come back this time—not without help. Just as he was about ready to start yanking his hair out, Didi reappeared. He grabbed her, pulling her to him. "I thought . . . I thought you'd die there, helpless on the floor."

"I was fine. I just . . . took some time to look around. I miss the place. I know it's hers, but . . . like you said, I have all of her memories—up to the point where they pricked her thumb, anyway. I can't help it. It was my life. I just wanted to bring a few fresh memories of it back with me—especially since she won't be living there much longer anyway."

"That's true. There're only eleven days left in the month. . . ."

Didi nodded. "She's evidently found a place to live since I was created. I saw a rental agreement for an apartment at a complex called The Grenadier Arms. Sounds nice."

"That's _my_ apartment building," Cam said with an ironic smile. "She's really going to meet the other me."

Didi smiled, too. "Good for her! Good for _both_ of them. I hope they hit it off. I'd like to think the two of them can be as happy together as we are."

"Didi, do you think you could . . . remove my DNA tag, too?"

"I could try . . . ."

"That's all I'm asking."

Cam stood in front of her and she placed her hands on his abdomen, closing her eyes and focusing her mind on her goal. He looked down at her and smiled. Even if—on the surface—she'd seemed to be a regular, ordinary girl before, he had come to know pretty quickly that she was special—in ways that even Didi herself didn't realize. Now, with the Chak-tuk Power at her disposal, she was even _more_ so.

"Wow!" she said. "Your DNA strands are really different from mine. They're brighter, more vibrant shades—like Christmas tree lights: red, blue, green, orange, amber, purple. . . . It's amazing! I think I see it. . . . Yes, there it is. Yours is black—totally and completely black, as though it'd been _burned _into you." She concentrated again. "**Disintegrate it!**" she ordered. Then she nodded and smiled with satisfaction, opening her eyes. "You're clean."

"Take me home, Dee. I wanna know I can go. And, like you, I'd like to take a last look around."

She nodded. "Okay. But, let's change clothes first, shall we?"

"Yeah," Cam laughed, "let's."

"I may have some trouble getting out of this thing. It was hard enough getting _into_ it."

"Raise yours arms up above your head and I'll—"

"Never mind. I'll use my Power to change clothes. No muss, no fuss."

"Aw, c'mon, Didi! Give a guy a break!"

"This is not the time for you to get distracted. After dinner . . . maybe—if you're a good boy." She was trying not to smile.

"Woof," said Cam. "Put a collar on me, pat my head and tell me to roll over."

Didi laughed, then closed her eyes and said aloud, "**Swap out what I'm currently wearing for the clothes that are presently in my dresser drawer—including my underwear**." Almost instantaneously, she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. "Ee-yow!" she screeched. "Wedgie! Major wedgie!" Grimacing, she ran for the bathroom. "Gotta make some adjustments. You change out here, okay?"

Cam was laughing now. "I guess the Power isn't so good at being a lady's maid, huh?" he called out to her. "You shoulda let me do it, babe!"

"Later!" she yelled back. It took her a few minutes to remove what she was wearing and put it all back on again properly. She took time to put on some fresh deodorant while she was at it. When she was finished, she queried, "Are you decent out there?"

"Didi, I know you're having a hard time wrapping your mind around this concept, but we're _married _now. Come out of there."

"We're not _exactly_ married. Not really."

"We're not exactly human, either. But if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck . . . ."

Tentatively, Didi opened the door and took a peek. Cam was standing right in front of the door, fully dressed, with his hands on his hips and a mildly amused expression on his face. "I didn't get a good look before you ran off. Why does your T-shirt say _**VOILA! **_right across your—"

"Because I'm pathetic, is why," she said. "I was going through a really rough time when I bought this shirt. I was craving attention—_any kind_ of attention, which is _not_ a good thing. _Your_ shirt is innocuous enough: 'United States Air Force Academy.' Hardly seems fair."

"Hey, _I_ didn't pick the shirts. . . ."

"I know. I'm just feeling . . . crabby. This isn't exactly how I pictured either my birthday _or_ my wedding day."

"I realize that, and I'm sorry," Cam apologized, looking at his watch. It was after four o'clock. "But we have less than two hours 'til dinnertime. If we're going to my apartment, we should do it now."

"All right; then, after we get back from your place, I'd like to take some time to remove the DNA tags from the others. I'll have to teleport myself to their room and make myself invisible, in case Gor-lak or any other Chak-tuk is hanging around. . . ."

"I'm going with you. You can teleport us both."

She nodded. "Okay." She moved forward, wrapped her arms around Cam's waist and concentrated. "**Teleport us to Cam's apartment, but not to the same room his original is in**."

A moment later they found themselves in Cam's living room. They could hear the voice of his original coming from the vicinity of the bedroom. He was attempting to sing. "He must have a date," Cam whispered. "It _is_ Friday night."

"My original was gone when I went there," said Didi. "She's probably at Mom and Dad's right now for the birthday dinner." She looked around. "According to the clock on the VCR, it's going on six-thirty. That means there's about a two-hour time difference between here and Com-Chak-tuk—probably _three_ hours for Kansas."

"Take us back to Planet Max now . . . but to the common room. We'll return here sometime during the day, when my original's not home. There's some stuff I'd like to show you."

"All right." Didi closed her eyes in concentration. "**Cloak us and teleport us to the room currently occupied by the clones of SG-1**."

They arrived in the center of the room, between all of the cots. "Coast is clear," Cam's voice said out of what seemed to be thin air to the inhabitants of the room.

"**Make us visible**," said Didi. Then, suddenly, they were.

"Whoa!" said Daniel. "Where'd you guys come from?"

"Aren't you supposed to be having your wedding night?" Vala asked.

Slightly red-faced, Didi said, "We're postponing that until after dinner."

"Why?" Vala queried again.

"You'll never guess," said Cam with a smug smile on his face. "Have we got a story to tell you."

After Cam had explained everything he could about how Didi got the Power, _she_ gave the technical details as to how it worked, as she had done with Cam earlier.

"That's incredible!" Sam exclaimed.

"No kidding," agreed Daniel. "And Gor-lak has no idea he did this to you?"

"Nope," said Didi, shaking her head. "And we'd like to keep it that way until _after_ we escape."

"Yeah, about that . . . ." Daniel said.

"If you're going to mention the DNA markers, we already know," said Cam. "In fact, that's the reason we're here. Didi got rid of ours and we both went home to our . . . or rather, our _originals'_ apartments. Didi's original wasn't home, so she had some time. Unfortunately, _my_ original was getting ready for a date. We're thinking about going back sometime tomorrow and trying again."

"So, there really are genetic markers in all of us?" Daniel queried.

"And it almost killed Didi the first time she left—_before_ she removed hers," Cam told him.

"I needed to know if Gor-lak was telling the truth, and I wanted to find out if I _could_ teleport myself home," Didi explained. "The pain started immediately. I teleported myself back as fast as I could."

"She was doubled over with agony and _really_ pale. . . . About scared me to death, I can tell ya. I thought she'd die before she could use her Power to stop the hurt and remove the DNA tag."

"Using my Power when I was in such pain took immense concentration," Didi clarified. "I didn't know if I could do it, either."

"So," Vala said, "you want to remove the DNA tags from us now, is that it?"

"Yes. That's why I'm here. This is the first step toward freedom for us. I intend to keep experimenting and seeing what else I can do with my Power. Eventually, I hope to find a home for all of us, far away from this place."

"Who's first?" Cam asked.

"I'll go," said Vala excitedly. "What do I do?"

"Just lie down on your cot and let me touch you."

"Why do I have to lie down?"

"Because the DNA tags could be located anywhere in the body, and it may be different for each person. The abdomen is most centrally located, so it's a matter of reaching out with my mind from there to find the tag. And putting my hands on your abdomen is easier if you're lying down."

"You did mine standing up. . . ." Cam pointed out.

"You're taller than Vala. Your abdomen was easier to reach standing up than hers would be."

"That's probably true," Cam agreed.

Didi was placing her hands on Vala's midsection and closing her eyes. "Now," said Cam, "everybody be _quiet_."

"Cool!" said Didi. "Your DNA strands are half like mine and half like Cam's: a mixture of bright and pastel colors. They're pretty. Searching . . . searching . . . . Ah! I think that's it: deep, dark, ugly-bruise bluish-purple. **Disintegrate it**!" she commanded. The blue-purple strand of DNA dissolved. Didi opened her eyes. "You're clean," she pronounced.

"Just like that? I didn't feel a thing!"

"It's completely painless," Cam agreed.

"So, everyone's DNA strands are different combinations of colors?" Sam queried, having inferred the same from the comments Didi made while she was exploring Vala's.

"Yes," Didi replied. "Mine are all pastels; Cam's are clear and bright like Christmas tree lights. Vala has some of each."

"Could I go next?" Daniel asked.

"Sure," said Didi.

"I'll go ahead and lie down."

"It is easier that way."

Daniel's DNA strands were all of earthen hues: dark greens, dark yellows and various shades of brown. "It's like a fibrous forest," said Didi. "With all these dark shades, finding the marker might not be quite so easy." She closed her eyes and said, "**Show me the DNA marker that prevents Daniel from leaving this planet**." A moment later, she said, "Whoa! It's like my viewfinder kicked into fast forward. That must be it there: it's black, just like Cam's. **Disintegrate it**!" She opened her eyes. "You're clean."

"Sam, do you wanna go next?" Cam asked her.

Sam nodded. "Sure." She lay down on her cot and Didi went to work.

"I didn't expect this," said Didi. "It's all blue and purple: all the different shades of blue and the lighter, pastel shades of purple. The colors range from indigo to the palest lavender or lilac. It's beautiful!" The DNA tag turned out to be a dark plum color, easy to spot. "**Disintegrate**!" Sam was now free.

"Teal'c . . . ."

"I shall remain standing. I believe I am sufficiently tall to enable you to work effectively."

"You are," Didi agreed, nodding her head. She wondered what she'd find inside the DNA of the big Jaffa. Since he wasn't really human—and since the DNA strands inside those who _were_ human had been very different from each other—she didn't know what to expect. She placed her hands on his midsection, closed her eyes and concentrated. "It's all black and white," Didi said in amazement. "And each individual strand is striped, like a zebra." She searched a bit longer and finally demanded to be shown the DNA marker, as she had done in Daniel. "It's red, like the flashing light on an emergency vehicle," Didi said. "**Disintegrate it**!"

The moment Didi opened her eyes, Teal'c said, "Thank you, Miss Steadman—or should I say, 'Mrs. Mitchell'?"

"You can call me whatever you like, but I'm not prepared to call myself 'Mrs. Mitchell' just yet. I know Cam and I are 'mated' under Chak-tuk law and custom, but . . . I'd really like to have an actual wedding ceremony—if only in front of a judge—before I start going by 'Mrs. Mitchell.'"

"Then I shall simply call you 'Didina' for the time being."

"That's fine, thanks."

"Uh, Dee—" said Cam. She looked his way. "It's getting close to six. We'd better go."

"It's almost dinnertime?" Daniel asked, looking at his watch. "Wow! This has been an interesting hour."

"When can we see you guys again?" Sam queried anxiously. "We need to make plans, and—"

"_After_ Didi finds out what else she can _do_," Cam replied. "I have some things I'd like her to try."

"We'll keep you informed," Didi said, nodding her head. "Bye!" She closed her eyes and they were gone.

Didi nearly collapsed onto the floor when they returned to their room. "Oh man! I almost didn't make it back!"

Cam grabbed her arm and helped her onto the bed. "Lie down." Once she was lying on her pillow, he asked, "What happened?"

"I think I overextended myself, Power-wise. I performed four teleportations and six DNA marker removals in under two hours. It may not sound like much, but I'm still new at this, and my body may not be producing enough of the enzyme yet."

He put a hand to her forehead. "You feel kind of clammy. Are you gonna be up to eating?"

"I feel like eating _now_. The funny thing is, I feel like eating a Milky Way."

"As in, candy bar?"

She nodded. "Yes." She closed her eyes. "**Bring me a Milky Way from the vending machine in the manager's office of my apartment building**." She held out her hand to receive it; the candy bar appeared in her hand. She smiled.

"Neat trick! Now you'd better eat it before dinner comes."

"Right." She had eaten only two bites when . . . "I feel better already," she said. "I can't believe it's this easy! So little does so much! I'll put it away in the bathroom and finish it after dinner."

"Why not save it for the next time you need a quick fix?" Cam asked. "The less candy bars you have to steal from Earth, the better."

"You're right. I hadn't thought about that. I don't want to steal anything at all, but—"

"You need what you need, and they don't have candy bars here."

"I wonder what the _Chak-tuk_ eat when they need a recharge."

"Something with their equivalent of sugar in it, no doubt. But I'll bet it doesn't taste as good as a Milky Way."

Didi sat up and folded the top of the wrapper over the exposed portion of the candy bar. Cam then took it from her and said, "I'll take it to the bathroom. You stay put."

"Cam, I'm fine," she called out to him as he entered the bathroom.

"I know, but I can't help it," he replied loudly, as he looked around for a good hiding place. "I'm your trained dog, remember?" He stuck his head out and smiled at her with tender amusement. Then he set the candy bar down on the countertop next to the cups Gor-lak had provided, just to the left of the bathroom door.

"I love you, Colonel Mitchell."

"I love you, too, Didi." Just as Cam was leaving the bathroom, the door to the room opened and the dinner cart was wheeled in. Cam closed the bathroom door.

Didi turned around and sat on the edge of the bed. "Um! Smells delicious!"

As the servant uncovered the plates, Cam climbed over the bed and sat down next to his wife. "Looks like it came from Olive Garden this time," he said. "Fettuccini Alfredo. They make some of the best in the country."

"I know," Didi agreed, nodding. "I love Olive Garden. What's this? Champagne flutes?" She picked one up.

At the same moment, the servant pulled something out from a shelf down below. "Champagne?" Cam queried incredulously, taking the proffered bottle from the servant. He looked at Didi. "Gor-lak must've done some serious searching of our memory archives to find out what people do on their wedding day—and night."

The servant, without further ado, bowed and left.

"Well, you did want something other than water. . . ." Didi reminded him.

"I only wanted a beer. . . ."

"We don't have to polish off the whole bottle, you know. We could each just have one glassful."

"Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna need to get you drunk . . . am I?" he asked half facetiously and half in earnest.

She nudged him with her elbow, but said nothing.

He smiled. "Just checking. I have been a good boy, haven't I?"

She reached up and rubbed the top of his head. "You've been a _very_ good boy!"

"Are you going to scratch my belly next?—or maybe my . . . chest? You've been fascinated with it for days. . . ."

"You'll just have to wait and see," Didi replied, smiling a bit nervously.

"You can be a real tease, you know that? How'd I end up with a girl like you, anyway?"

She gazed into his eyes and said, "You claimed me in the winner's circle, remember? Not regretting it now, are you?"

Cam shook his head. "Not in a million years," he said earnestly. "So, why don't I pop the cork on this bottle and we'll get this celebration dinner started. The sooner we finish eating, the sooner we can get down to . . . business."

About an hour later, Gor-lak arrived. "Was your dinner satisfactory?"

"It was great, Gor-lak, thanks," said Cam. "Was there something else you wanted besides just to find out how dinner was?"

"Indeed. I came to inquire if you would be interested in a Binding ceremony."

"A binding ceremony? What's that?" Cam asked. Didi sat up straight, all ears.

"Occasionally, members of a mated Chak-tuk pair get along so well that they choose to be _bound _together, permanently."

"Sounds good to me. How about you, Didi?"

"Yes. It sounds sort of like a wedding ceremony. I know it'd make _me_ feel more married than I do now."

"There is something you should understand about the Binding, however," Gor-lak cautioned.

"What might that be?" Cam inquired.

"We Chak-tuk elders use our _Power _when we perform the Rite of Binding. The Binding is, therefore, very restrictive: neither individual may ever end the relationship for any reason. Infidelity means instantaneous death—for both parties. Additionally, when _one_ dies, the _other_ dies also."

"Wow, that's heavy." Cam looked at his mate and asked, "Still wanna go through with it, Didi? My life's gonna be a lot more dangerous than yours is. If I die, so do you."

She turned to face him, grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Without you, my life wouldn't have much meaning. And I can't see myself _ever_ wanting to be with anyone else. I love you totally and completely, Cam—forever."

"Yeah, but—"

"It's okay . . . really," she looked at him earnestly and winked with the eye Gor-lak couldn't see.

"You're _absolutely sure_?" Cam asked.

"Positive," she averred confidently.

"Let's do it, then." He looked up at Gor-lak. "We're ready anytime you are."

"One moment." Gor-lak opened the door and motioned for the servant to come in and remove the dinner cart.

Once that was done, he stood directly in front of the couple and indicated that they should rise. Then he said, "Colonel Mitchell, reach across with your right hand and wrap it around your mate's left wrist. Mrs. Mitchell, you will wrap your left hand around his right wrist." After they had complied, he said, "Now, Colonel, take hold of her right hand with your left and let them dangle between your bodies."

Didi smiled. She was certain there was something symbolic about the hand-holding. She wished she knew what it was. She did _not_, however, have the courage to ask. Once their hands were linked as specified, Gor-lak began to speak:

"Cameron Mitchell and Didina Steadman, inasmuch as you have chosen to spend the remainder of your lives together, keeping yourselves only to each other for as long as you both shall live, with the Power granted me by the Creators, I bind you together as life-mates." He then touched their linked hands and wrists with the glowing tip of his rod. Energy surged into them and ran throughout their bodies, infusing them with what could only be called a "binding force."

Once he had finished, he returned his rod to its full upright position and closed his eyes. When he opened them again a few seconds later, he said, "Your Binding has just been registered in the historical archives of the Chak-tuk. You are now officially mated _and_ bound for life. I believe it is customary in your culture for the officiator at such a ceremony to say 'You may now kiss the bride.'"

Cam wasted no time in obeying that directive. Didi was in his arms before the translation of the word "bride" had even escaped the rod's glowing tip. The kiss was long, slow, and deep.

Gor-lak was shaking his head. "I shall never understand the purpose of that act."

Cam turned his head and looked at the Chak-tuk elder with amusement. "It's your loss, Gor-lak, that's all I can say. It's one of the greatest pleasures of being human—especially when you're in love."

"Good night, Colonel and Mrs. Mitchell. I shall see you in the morning."

Immediately after Gor-lak left, Cam called out, "Dim lights by eighty percent." Then he picked up his wife and laid her on the bed.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12: SIMPLE EXPERIMENTS

The next morning, as the couple awakened and Cam ordered the lights on at thirty percent, Didi lay wrapped in his arms and said, "You know, Cam, a thought just occurred to me . . . ."

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"Since you and I are clones (with brand new bodies fresh off the assembly line, so to speak), until last night, we were, technically speaking . . . untouched."

"Huh!" Cam said, smiling. "You're right! Wow! That's one thing I never thought'd happen: that I'd get my virginity back!"

"Well, technically, you never lost it—except in your memory. Kind of a mindbender, isn't it?"

"Yeah, no kidding. But, since it's true, I'm really glad that you were my first."

"Me too—and, hopefully, we'll also be each other's lasts."

"Ain't no doubt about that, sweetness—no doubt whatsoever." He pulled her in closer and kissed her warmly. "Now," he said, "much as I hate to say it, we need to get up. We have less than an hour 'til breakfast."

Didi sighed. "Yes, I know." She kissed Cam's chin, threw off the covers and climbed over him, rolling off the bed on his side. "First dibs on the bathroom!" she called out as she scampered out of reach.

"You're a little minx, you know that?" Cam retorted as he climbed out of bed himself. He shook his head and chuckled. Being married to Didi was going to be a lot of fun. . . .

After doing their morning grooming ritual—known in some circles as the "toilette"—the newlyweds dressed in the same clothes they'd had on the night before. Didi would've preferred a shirt other than the _**VOILA!**_ one, but since they'd only worn the current T's for a few hours, Gor-lak had chosen not to get them new ones just yet.

Didi spent what little time they had before the arrival of breakfast doing a little work in the bathroom. They'd discussed the possibility of teleporting in a six-pack of good quality bottled water, but Didi was unhappy with the idea of stealing anything from Earth unless it was absolutely necessary. She opted instead to try to find a way of filtering the water that came out of the tap, so that it would taste better.

"I notice your Milky Way is still invisible," Cam said from the doorway. Didi had "cloaked" the candy bar before retiring for the night, since it was the one thing they didn't want Gor-lak to see, anyway.

"I hadn't noticed. You're right, it is." She smiled. "That's good news."

"Have you tried filtering the water yet?" Cam asked.

"No. I've been trying to figure out how best to word the command."

She picked up the cup that had been designated as hers, turned on the faucet, and ran water into it. When it was nearly full, she turned off the water, held the cup up to eye level and said, "**Cleanse this water of all impurities and any harmful elements and make it as cold as the water in Didi's refrigerator**." As soon as those last words were out of her mouth, the cup grew cool to her touch. "Oh wow!" she exclaimed. She then took a sip. "Oh, Cam, it's delicious!—cold, pure and clean."

"May I?" he queried, holding out his hand. She gave him the cup and he took a drink. "That _is_ good; looks like we've solved our water problem." He gave her back the cup and put a hand to her cheek. "You are the most incredible woman alive."

"It's the Power, Cam, it's not me."

"Are you kidding? The Chak-tuk elders have the Power, but do they really know how to make good use of it?" He shook his head. "No, they don't. These . . . _creatures_ are the most unimaginative lot I've ever seen in my life. Gor-lak seemed to think the DNA tags couldn't be removed because _they_ can't do it with their _technology_. It never even occurred to him that it could be done by using the _Power_. And, every time I've seen him use his Power, he's closed his eyes and concentrated. _You_ do that, too, when it's necessary, but you also give verbal commands that get things done just as efficiently."

"That's because I'm still a novice and don't understand completely yet how the Power works. Is it dependent entirely upon the will and psyche of the wielder? Is it like . . . instantaneous prayer answers? Is it primarily psycho-kinesis?" She shook her head. "I haven't a clue. I just keep trying things to find out _what_ I can do. I don't understand _how_ or _why_ I can do them."

"That knowledge isn't in your mind, the way the other stuff is that you spouted last night?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not. All I know is where the Power's control center is in the brain, and that it's the enzyme being produced there that makes it work. _How_ that enzyme makes it work, why some things require mental concentration while other things can be uttered vocally, I don't know; it's not entirely clear. But I do have to say that being able to _voice_ what I want makes it much easier to focus."

"I imagine it does. But having to be super specific about everything can be a pain, can't it?"

Didi nodded. "Yes, it can. And the more complex the request, the more careful I have to be with the wording—like making a wish that's being granted by a genie."

The door to the room was opening. Breakfast was being delivered. Didi quickly drank the rest of the purified water and set the cup back down next to its mate. She then exited the bathroom, and, with her husband, headed for the breakfast cart. They climbed over the bed, rather than going around it this time.

"_Froot Loops_?" Cam was whining. "After that great IHOP breakfast we had yesterday, today we get _Froot Loops_?" The servant, of course, didn't understand a word, but looked at Cam questioningly. He waved his hands at the creature in dismissal, sat down on the bed and poured milk into his bowl from a pitcher that sat in the center of the cart. "If I remember right, there was something about Froot Loops in one of Colonel O'Neill's mission reports. What was it?" Cam wondered aloud.

Didi sat down next to him and picked up one little round circle and popped it into her mouth, dry. She smiled at the servant, who nodded and left. "Blech!" Didi uttered, spitting the Froot Loop back into the bowl. "I detest fruit-flavored cereal!"

"You've learned the ropes, though," said Cam with a smile, as he spooned some into his mouth. "The little guy won't leave until he's convinced we're both eating."

Didi held a finger out over her bowl. "**Transmute the Froot Loops into Cheerios**," she said. Instantly, the big, colorful rings turned into small, beige ones. "That's better." Didi poured milk from the pitcher and dug in.

Cam sniggered. "You're gonna spoil yourself with that Power."

"I like what I like," Didi said with a shrug. "If I can do something about it, why shouldn't I?"

"No reason that _I_ can think of. What would you eat if you couldn't've transmuted it?"

"Your last Power Bar, since you never did."

"You like Power Bars?"

"They're better than Froot Loops," she replied noncommittally.

"So, how about using your Power to do a little something for me?"

"Anything, my love. What would you like?"

"Coffee. Look, we're not fighting in the arena today, so the no-caffeine argument won't wash."

"I just don't want to steal anything from Earth unless it's absolutely necessary," Didi responded. "Sorry, love. You're just gonna hafta do without coffee for the time being. I have more important things to worry about right now than how to get you the perfect cup of coffee without stealing it."

"Couldn't you just . . . transmute my glass of orange juice into a cup of coffee and specify 'just the way Cam likes it'?"

"I transmuted my cereal; I suppose I can transmute your beverage. . . ." She closed her eyes and concentrated. "**Transmute Cam's glass of orange juice into a cup of coffee, just the way he likes it**."

Nothing happened. "Maybe," said Didi, "the request wasn't specific enough. The Power, in and of itself, doesn't know that you like your coffee black, with two sugars." She sighed. "I guess I can try it again. So, what do you prefer: teaspoons, packets or cubes?"

"Doesn't matter. But I suppose cubes would be the easiest way to go."

Didi nodded and said, "**Transmute Cam's glass of orange juice into a mug of hot, black coffee with two cubes of sugar**."

A mug of coffee appeared where the glass of orange juice had been.

"All right! Mm-mm! Just smell that!" He took his spoon from his cereal bowl, put it into the mug, stirred the sugar into the coffee, licked off the spoon, put it back into the bowl, and then picked up the mug and tasted the coffee. "It's perfect! Thanks, hun."

"Don't spend too much time drinking it: you never know when Gor-lak might decide to show up, and we'd have a hard time explaining where it came from."

"Can't you set up some kind of a warning system to let us know if Gorlie's anywhere in the vicinity, so you can cloak the coffee or something if you need to?"

"I'd have to mask the smell, too . . . and Gor-lak might notice your orange juice is gone."

"I suppose you could turn it back into orange juice until he leaves again. . . ."

"But the room may still _smell_ like coffee. I'd have to dissipate the aroma before Gor-lak arrives, just in case." Her brow furrowed. "Let me give it a try." She closed her eyes and spoke the command.

"Whoa!" Cam laughed. "It worked. You'd never know there was any coffee here."

"Now I'll turn it back again." She closed her eyes and spoke again. The coffee returned.

"Thanks, hun."

"You're welcome. Now, on to the warning system . . . ."

"Could I ask you a question, Dee?"

"Sure."

"Why do you sometimes close your eyes when you make a command and sometimes you don't?"

"When we've been having a conversation and I've just finished saying something to you, I close my eyes and concentrate so that I can separate the conversational sentences from the command I'm about to make. I have to focus on the command specifically. Also, if the commands are rather long sentences instead of simple phrases, it's easier to concentrate if I close my eyes."

"Makes sense," Cam admitted.

"I've decided that, when the time comes that I have to make _really_ _complex_ requests or commands, I'm going to end by saying 'make it so,' like Captain Picard used to do when giving orders on the _Enterprise_. That will be the key phrase to indicate that all the parameters are correct and in place."

"So, you can like, tune your psyche to accept that key phrase whenever you need it?"

"I guess so. It _feels_ like I can. I'm going to try it, anyway. So far, even commands of multiple purposes that I've made—like cleansing and cooling the water—have been fairly simple. But I'm pretty sure there'll be times when the requests I make will be _super complex_ and I'll have to be careful. 'Make it so' will be my failsafe."

"Okay. Good enough. Now you can take care of the warning system."

Didi nodded wordlessly and closed her eyes in concentration. This one, Cam realized, was going to be one of those "long sentences" she mentioned. "**Have Cam's watch beep three times within half a minute of the arrival of any Chak-tuk to our room**."

"You think half a minute will be enough time?"

"How long did it take me to transmute your orange juice into coffee?"

"Only a couple seconds. I guess we can do whatever we need to in half a minute."

"If Gor-lak decides on the spur of the moment to pay us a visit and we don't have half a minute's warning, your watch should beep at the exact moment the idea comes into his head. Hopefully, that'll give me sufficient time to do whatever I have to do."

"Yeah, it should. So, what's the plan for today, then?" Cam queried, as he continued eating.

"After breakfast, I start experimenting more with my Power to find a way to get us out of here."

"All right. What do you wanna start with?—or do you even have any ideas?"

"I've had a strong impression in my mind since last night that I should try—don't laugh, because I know this is going to sound really crazy—time travel."

"Time travel. Okay."

Didi was stunned by Cam's evident impassivity. "It doesn't . . . blow your mind, just thinking about it?"

"It's not a common, everyday occurrence, but . . . it has been done before."

"Really? How? When?"

"SG-1—under Colonel O'Neill's command—traveled back to 1969 several years ago. It was an accident . . . something to do with a solar flare at a pivotal moment. . . ."

"But that was, as you say, an accident. And, because it was caused by a solar flare, it was originated _scientifically_. I'm talking about finding out if my _Power_ is capable of taking me backward or forward in time."

"I know. I'm just saying . . . time travel _isn't_ impossible. One of the Ancients—a scientist by the name of Janus—created a time machine of sorts that he hooked up to a puddle jumper. ('Puddle jumper' is the name Colonel John Sheppard gave to the small ships they have on Atlantis in the Pegasus galaxy; they use 'em to travel through the 'gate when circumstances dictate it). Like I said, time travel isn't impossible. So, if you wanna try it with your Power, go for it."

Didi nodded, looking at her husband thoughtfully. True, they'd only known each other for a few days, but she thought she'd learned plenty about the SGC—and SG-1 in particular. Now she wondered about all the things she _didn't_ know. _Had _**Cam**_ ever traveled through time but didn't remember doing it because the timeline had changed? Had any or all of them done it more than once?_

She returned her attention to her transmuted breakfast. Cam had been too busy enjoying the taste and smell of his coffee to notice that she was studying him. Because of Didi's thoughtful state, they finished the remainder of their meal in relative silence, making small talk only intermittently. Cam seemed to sense that Didi was working things out in her mind and he respected her need for quietude.

When they'd finished eating, Didi transmuted Cam's empty coffee cup back into its original form as a glass and changed the remaining drops of coffee into orange juice. "**Dissipate the remaining smell of coffee from the room**,"she commanded. She then transmuted the miniscule Cheerios crumbs in her bowl into Froot Loops crumbs. Now there was no trace of her having used the Power to change their breakfasts in any way.

"I think I'll go have a bite of dessert," she said with a satisfied smile. She pushed the cart out of the way, got to her feet and headed for the bathroom. She knew where the candy bar was, so she didn't bother to make it visible.

"You deserve the whole thing," Cam told her, as he, too, got to his feet. "You did great."

"Thank you," she replied. She took a single bite from the invisible Milky Way, rewrapped it and then put it back. "It's kind of fun, really, being able to do this stuff."

"I'll bet it is." Cam was standing with his arms folded and looking toward the bathroom when Didi came out. He had a no-nonsense look on his face.

"What is it, Cam?" Didi asked, reading her husband's body language.

"I was just wondering . . . . Do you think you could . . . do to me what Gor-lak did to you?"

"You want me to give you the Power?"

"Yeah . . . ."

She shook her head. "I probably could, but I'm not going to."

He sighed heavily. "I understand. It's because I'm a fighter by nature, isn't it? You're afraid I'll fly off the handle and use it to hurt or kill someone, or something."

Didi nodded. "Yes," she said quietly. "It's not just that you're a _fighter_ by nature, either. Part of it is that you're also _impulsive_. The fact that we're married after only knowing each other for a few days proves that. And the way you reacted in the arena when the guards tried to separate us . . . There was so much anger and hatred . . . I could see it in your eyes. And the look on your face was almost terrifying. If I hadn't already gotten to know your better nature, I would've recoiled from you rather than going so readily into your arms."

"I'm sorry. You called out to me for help and I reacted. I was afraid they might hurt you, and I couldn't allow that."

"I know. And that's precisely why I won't give you the Power, Cam. You're formidable enough without it."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Gor-lak said we'd be going back into the arena again in three days. (Of course, he told us that yesterday, so that means it'll be _two_ days from now.) If I had the Power, I might _accidentally_ tap into it and demonstrate it, and then we'd be in a whole _mess_ o' trouble."

"Yes, that's true, too. You saw what happened when all I did was wish for a drink of water. If a wish or a thought is powerful enough, it can happen. You could destroy your opponent in the arena with nothing more than a hateful thought."

"You've convinced me," Cam said, sighing and uncrossing his arms. "I'll stay normal and let you—my 'ordinary girl'—do the extraordinary stuff."

Didi slid past the bed rather than climbing over it this time and approached her husband, putting her hands on his chest and gazing into his eyes. "I know it bothers you that I'm not that 'ordinary girl' anymore. I know you like being the hero and feeling needed, but I can't help that this happened to me. And I think it's because _God wanted_ _it to happen_ that it did; I firmly believe that He _caused _Gor-lak to unwittingly overload me with Power. I told you He had me brought here for a purpose. I think this is it. Clones or not, He doesn't want us to have to live out our lives like this—as pawns in the Chak-tuk arena.

"I can get us away from here . . . eventually. After I've had some time to figure things out, I _will_ take us from this place. When I do—once we find a new place that we can call home, where we can live out our lives together—I fully intend to relinquish this Power."

"Just so I can play the hero and go back to protecting you?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her loosely.

She shook her head. "No, Cam, it's not like that at all!" She sighed. "You have no idea how scary this is. Yes, it's fun to do the little things, like turning orange juice into coffee and Froot Loops into Cheerios. And even procuring myself a Milky Way and cloaking it was easy. But, do you have any idea how _scared_ I am when it comes to the really _difficult_ stuff? Teleporting all six of us off this planet . . . trying to find us a new place to live (since we can never go back to Earth) . . . finding thoughts inside my head that are telling me to try to _time travel_ . . . . Cam, I'm _terrified_ of this Power—of what I might actually be able to do. After I've done what's necessary, _I don't want it anymore_. I don't want to be that powerful. I don't want to be like the Chak-tuk or the Ori or the Goa'uld.

"I want to go back to being an 'ordinary girl'—someone who depends for safety and protection on the wonderful, strong, handsome man she married—because it's what _I want_, not because it's what I think _you need_. I don't want to be Samantha, or Jeannie or one of the Charmed Ones. I just wanna be plain old Didi—the girl you first fell in love with."

"There's never been anything 'plain' about you, Dee," he said, gazing at her tenderly. He pulled her close, kissing the top of her head again. "I do love you, you know." He said it again, more slowly. "I honestly . . . do . . . love you." He paused for just a moment and then said, "I guess it was _my_ turn to get petulant. I'm sorry."

Didi raised her head and gazed up at him. "Just don't scare me like that again, Cam. I don't want to lose you because of the Power. I don't wanna lose you _at all_."

Cam's watch beeped. "Sounds like someone's coming—probably to get the cart."

"Good. Once they've come and gone, I can get to work on trying to time travel."

Cam took Didi by the hand and they sat back down on the edge of the bed to await their visitor. As they waited, they decided to pass the time with a little smooching.

When they heard the sound of the door being unlocked, they broke off kissing and watched as the little servant entered and wheeled the cart away.

"Now, where were we?" Cam asked as the door closed once again.

As he gathered her into his arms, Didi said, "I guess time travel can wait a little while longer. . . ."

Sometime later—while he was lying on his back and she was lying on her side, facing him—Didi lifted Cam's dog tags off his chest and examined them. "You know, Cam, if you'd looked at these things before, I think you'd've realized right away that maybe you weren't really you."

"What?" He propped himself up on his elbow and whipped the chain off from around his neck. He then looked at the tags closely. "You're right: this is nothing but gibberish." He laughed mirthlessly. "The Chak-tuk must not've realized the importance of the dog tags—what they're really for. They may have just figured they're some sort of ornamentation—like jewelry or something. Whatever's printed on here, it isn't English. They didn't bother to try to duplicate them exactly. What a farce!"

"They probably didn't think you'd look closely at them—and you didn't," commented Didi, lying back down on her pillow and staring at the ceiling. "It's moot now, anyway."

"Yeah it is, since we all know we're clones. I just wish we _had_ looked at them sooner. But it's funny how you can take something like these stupid tags for granted. They're always there, you know? So, what made _you_ decide to look at them, anyway?" Cam queried as he slid the chain back over his head.

"I wanted to see if they were like my dad's."

"Your dad was in the military?"

"He was on a carrier during the Viet Nam War."

"A Navy man, huh? Career?"

"No. He didn't want a military career of any kind. Mostly he joined the navy because Grandma didn't want him to get killed, and she figured he had a better chance of survival on a carrier."

"Well, she was right, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, I suppose she was. Fact is, Dad wanted to go straight to college and take his chances with the draft, but Grandma didn't want him going nose to nose with the VC and little kids carrying weapons."

"I can understand her feeling that way. Lord knows the grunts in the army got the worst of it over there." Cam smiled at his wife. "Now I know something more about your family background. It's cool."

"It's _her_ family background, not mine."

"You've gotta stop doing that."

"What?"

"Separating yourself completely from your original. I know that being a clone makes the whole identity issue confusing, but in your own mind you're still Didina Steadman: everything she usually does or ever has done is a part of you because _you were a part of her_. It's okay to say 'I' and 'me' and 'mine' when talking about your shared past; there's no law against it."

Didi looked at Cam gratefully and smiled wanly, saying, "I'm differentiating between us so that I never _forget_ I'm a clone: there's a big part of me that still wants to go home, and I have to keep reminding myself that I can't because _she's_ there." She shook her head. "I'm just trying to accept the fact that I can never go back to that life again."

"I understand that. I feel the same way. I'd love to go back to the SGC; I'd love to see my folks again. But _I_ can't go back to Earth, either. Nevertheless, my original's memories are a part of who _I_ am, because that background shaped _me_ as much as it did _him_. And the same holds true for you—just don't ever forget that."

"Are you through with the lecture?"

Cam sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am. Are you ready to start experimenting with time travel now?"

Didi sat up and said, "Yes, but give me a sec." She lifted the dog tags again and closed her eyes. "**Make the dog tags worn by the clones of SG-1 exact duplicates of those worn by their originals**," she commanded. Then she opened her eyes again. "There! That should do it. Now you're official."

After Didi let go of the tags, Cam looked at them and smiled. "That's more like it!"

"Now I'm gonna put my clothes back on and get started with my experiment in time travel. I'm anxious to see if I can do it." She climbed out of bed and grabbed her clothes from the floor.

Cam got off the bed on his side, picked up his own clothes from the floor and began to put them on as he talked to his wife. "I wanna go with you, wherever, whenever you go, Dee. If, by any chance, you mess up, I don't wanna end up separated from you for the rest of my life. No telling what that might do to the Binding. Were you planning to undo that at some point, by the way, so we don't end up dead?"

"Not 'til we're legally married sometime, somewhere. The Binding is all I have that tells me I'm actually your wife. Take that away and we're nothing more than mated for life, like animals in the wild. That may be enough for the Chak-tuk, but it isn't enough for me."

Cam was fully clad by the time Didi ended that last sentence. He stood next to the bed with his hands on his hips and spoke to her as she finished dressing. "I understand, Dee. You told me up front that you believe in marriage, and I took you at your word. At first I thought the 'mating' thing might be enough. It is, after all, customary and legal on this world. But for a girl like you . . . I guess I underestimated your sense of morality and the literalness of your belief in the holy state of matrimony. Gor-lak's offer to perform the Binding ceremony for us was a godsend." Now that she was fully dressed, he walked over to her, took her by the hand and raised her from the bed. "Once we confessed our love for each other and I'd claimed you as my mate, I don't think I could've stood staying in this room with you if I couldn't . . . _have_ you. . . ."

"I know. You'd promised to wait until _I_ was ready—that you wouldn't push. But when we were brought back here and there was only the one bed . . . ." She shook her head. "I was praying for an answer to my dilemma. I knew that your claiming me as your mate was _legal_ here, but it wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I said I believed in marriage. The Rite of Binding makes it more . . . _legitimate_ and therefore more acceptable to me . . . maybe because the Power is involved. We truly are _bound_ together. I actually felt the binding force running through us, and I know you did, too. That's why I won't undo it 'til we find a minister or a magistrate somewhere, some-when."

"Then we'll keep the Binding for now," Cam told her. "I don't want you to doubt for one minute that you're my wife—legally, morally and in every other way."

"I believe Gor-lak is the equivalent of a minister or a magistrate on this world—possibly both—and that's another reason I accept the Binding as a legitimate marriage ceremony. But I don't like the part about both of us dying (if one or the other of us does) anymore than _you_ do. We'll end up being afraid of dying every time something the least bit dangerous crops up."

"That's the reason I want it gone. If anything happens to me, I'd like you to have a chance to live out the rest of your life."

She put a hand to his cheek and gazed into his eyes. "I love you, Cameron Mitchell."

He kissed the palm of her hand. "I love you, too, Dee. Now . . . where and when do you want to go?"


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13: TIME AND HOME

"Let's go back to your apartment first," Didi replied in answer to Cam's query as to where and when she wanted to go. "Considering the time differential we figured out on yesterday's trip, it should be nearing noon there now. But, just to be on the safe side, let's have a look and see if Cam's at home. . . ." She closed her eyes and concentrated. "**Show us where Cam's original is at this moment in time**."

"Whoa! How'd that happen?" Cam exclaimed.

Didi opened her eyes. "I just made the command. I wasn't sure _what _would happen." A holographic projection had appeared in the air, showing the original Cam and the rest of SG-1. They were fully outfitted, including body armor and automatic weapons.

"They're off world," said Cam. "That's unusual for a Saturday. Something must've come up. In any case, it looks like we've got some time."

Didi nodded. "Good. But there's something else I need to do before we go."

"What?" Cam asked.

"Patience, love!" said Didi with a tender smile. "Just give me a minute. I have to be careful how I word this." She closed her eyes in thoughtful deliberation. Then she said, "**Immediately after Cam and I leave this room, activate three-dimensional holographic images of us, as we appear now, that will be capable of interacting with each other and with any Chak-tuk who may enter this room. Give them awareness of what they are and what their job is: to prevent the Chak-tuk from knowing that we are gone from this room. Have them disappear the moment we return. Make it so.**"

Didi opened her eyes and Cam asked, "Wow! Do you think that'll actually work?"

"I don't know; I hope so. If we're lucky, we'll never have to find out. Now . . . let's get going."

"Okay, but first . . . ." He went to the bathroom to get her Milky Way. He knew where it was, too, so he didn't have any trouble finding it, despite the fact that it was still invisible. "You may need this," he said. She opened her hand to receive it.

"Thanks," she replied. She slid the candy bar into her pocket while smiling softly and looking at him gratefully. "Now, hold my hand, Cam." He did so, and she closed her eyes yet again. "**Take us to Cam's apartment back on Earth**."

The moment they arrived, Cam burst into a smile. "Ah, home sweet home!" He looked down at Didi. "So, wha'd'ya think?"

"It's . . . roomy. . . ." she said judiciously.

Cam looked around. "He would have to pick today of all days to _leave the place a mess_!"

"It's probably because he was called to the SGC on short notice," Didi deduced.

Cam sighed. "Probably. If it were still _my_ place, I'd pick it all up. But, if I did . . ."

Didi nodded. "He'd probably notice. Yeah, that could be a problem."

"Do you mind if I kind of . . . wander around a little?"

Didi smiled. "Go ahead. I know how you feel. I wandered around my place last night."

Cam made a beeline for the kitchen. Didi had a feeling. . . .

"I thought so," she said, coming upon him as he was taking a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. "Cam, you can't. He might miss it."

Cam looked at the bottle and looked at his wife. "Just one . . . please?"

"Think about it for a minute, Cam. Pretend you're the _real_ you. You come home from a trip off world, tired, thirsty, wanting to unwind. Somewhere in your mind you know _exactly_ how many bottles of beer you have in your fridge, but when you open it to take one out, you realize there's one less bottle in there than there ought to be, and an empty bottle in the trash that you don't remember throwing away. What's your reaction going to be?"

Cam looked longingly at the bottle in his hand. "It's only one bottle . . . He might just think he counted wrong. . . ."

"Is that what _you'd_ think?"

"Aw, c'mon, Didi! I don't physically count every bottle every time I use one! Anyway, if Cam knew I existed, he'd offer me a bottle."

Didi laughed. "You're probably right, and he'd undoubtedly offer me one, too."

"He would, I guarantee it."

The pleading look in his eyes was more than she could bear. "All right," she said, sighing. "But just the one—and you take a breath mint or something afterward. I absolutely _loathe_ the smell of beer."

"You do?"

"Unfortunately for you, yes."

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so? I mean, I don't _have_ to have it. . . ." He put the bottle back and closed the refrigerator. "I love you, Dee," he told her, putting his hands on her waist. "If the smell of beer is a turn-off for you, I'll never drink any when I'm around you. And if I have some when I'm away from you, I'll be sure to do something about my breath before I come home."

"Just make sure you stay sober, too."

"I can handle a beer or two without getting drunk, I promise."

"I hope so."

"C'mon," he said, taking her by the hand. "I want to show you something."

He took her to his bedroom, where a photograph of his parents stood atop his dresser. "Mom and Dad," he said, handing the photo to Didi.

"They look like really nice people—_good_ people."

"The best," Cam said. "And this," he said, swapping out the photo of his parents for another, "is my Grandpa Mitchell. He was captain of the ship that first brought the Stargate to America from Egypt, back in 1939. I didn't find that out until a short time ago."

Didi looked at the picture closely. "He looks a lot like you—or maybe I should say, you look a lot like him, only younger."

"Yeah, I get that a lot from people." He put the picture back and turned to go.

"What? You don't have any pictures of yourself?" Didi asked, grabbing him by the arm.

"Well, yeah, I have some, but I don't go around showing them off. If you wanna see some . . ."

"I do. I'd especially like to see a photo of you in your uniform." There was a light in her eyes.

Cam smiled and opened a drawer. "Here," he said, handing a framed 8x10 to her. "This one was taken right after I was promoted to full colonel. It's the most recent one I've got."

"That's—"

"The President, yeah. I don't keep it on display, because people might ask questions that I can't answer without lying."

"The President was giving you an award of some kind."

"For saving the earth."

"Wow! And your parents don't even know."

"Nope." He took the picture and put it back in the drawer. "But now _you_ do."

"You look great in your uniform, Cam."

"You mean, _he_ looks great in _his_ uniform. I know who all these people are, I know where all the pictures are, but . . . none of it's mine." He gazed into her eyes; there was pain in his. "I'm beginning to understand what _you_ were going through last night." He shook his head. "We shouldn't've come here. It was a mistake to dredge up a past that isn't mine."

Didi touched his cheek and gazed at him tenderly. "Still, they are your memories: what happened to him happened to you, too, in a way—just like you said to me about _my_ original. You are, for all intents and purposes, another Cam Mitchell. If he died, you could take his place and no one would be the wiser."

Cam grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, a light shining in his eyes. "Didi, I think I have an idea. Take us back."

Once they returned to their room and the holograms had disappeared, Didi asked, "Cam, what's on your mind?"

"If it is possible for you to travel through time, it might also be possible for you to travel between universes."

"Between universes? What in the world are you talking about?"

"A few years back, a spatial anomaly occurred, deliberately caused by another SG-1 from an alternate universe. Because of it, a whole slew of SG-1 teams ended up on our Earth. I don't understand all the scientific jargon, but—"

"So the theory is true, then? Whenever someone makes a choice, a new universe or a new reality is formed, so that there's a world created for every choice we've ever made or could have made?"

"You know about that?"

"I used to watch _Red Dwarf_. They dealt with that on a few episodes."

"What's _Red Dwarf_?"

"A British comedy that was shown on PBS for a while. There was this guy on board the starship, _Red Dwarf_, named Rimmer. Well, actually he was a hologram of the original Rimmer, who'd died thousands of years before—"

Cam shook his head. "I don't think I wanna know. The fact that you understand the principle of the multi-verse is enough for me to tell you what I have in mind."

"Wait a minute; let me guess: You're thinking that, if we can find an alternate universe in which Cam Mitchell died, you could go there—maybe right before or right after he died—and take his place in that universe."

Cam nodded. "Yeah, that's the basic idea. Let's say one of the other Cam Mitchells died when his 302 crashed in Antarctica instead of barely surviving like I . . . I mean, like _my original_ did. I could take his place."

"That could be risky—and painful. Cam, if you were to do that, you'd have to take his place, on the ground, in a crashed 302. We'd have to dispose of his body, and you'd have to have pretty much the same injuries you had the first time around—even if it meant that _I_ had to cause them. And then you'd have to relive the rehab, the physiotherapy—not to mention everything else you've already lived through over the past few years since then. . . ."

Cam looked thoughtful. "It was just an idea."

"Not a very good one."

"There're thousands of Earths in the multi-verse. I'm sure, if we try, we can find one that's suitable. It's just a matter of coming up with parameters."

Didi nodded. "Eventually we probably could, yes—_if_ I'm capable of traveling between the universes. We haven't even checked yet to see if I can travel through time."

"Let's do it, then." He looked at his watch. "We still have an hour 'til lunch. Where and when do you wanna go?"

"The birthday dinner my original had at my parents' house last night. It's a short trip (time-wise), and I'd kind of like to get a look at the guy who was invited."

"All right. But maybe you should take a nibble on your Milky Way before we go—just in case."

Didi nodded, removed the still-invisible candy bar from her pocket and took a bite. Cam then returned it to the bathroom and shut the door again.

"**Reinstate the holographic images program previously specified**," said Didi. "**Make it so." **Looking at her husband, she said, "Now, Cam, no matter what you see or hear while we're there, _be quiet_! We mustn't give our presence away."

"Yeah, I know. I'll be quiet as a mouse."

"I hope Gor-lak doesn't decide to drop in while we're gone. The holograms of us should be able to handle most situations, but there's a possibility your watch will still beep."

"Even if we're not here?"

"I'm not sure. So, just to be on the safe side . . . ." Closing her eyes in concentration once more, she said, "**If a Chak-tuk does come to this room while we're gone, do not activate the warning beeps on Cam's watch**."

"Let's hope we don't ever have to find out if _that_ one worked, either," said Cam.

"(No kidding!) Now, take my hand again and let's do this." Cam did as he was bidden and Didi closed her eyes before making the momentous pronouncement that would prove one way or the other whether she had the power to travel through time. "**Cloak us and send us to the birthday dinner the Steadmans held for the real Didina last night. Put us in the northwest corner of the dining room. Make it so**."

They made it! They were actually in her parents' dining room! Cam gripped Didi's hand possessively, afraid that being "home" might somehow affect her feelings for him. But she squeezed his hand in return, reassuring him. Her eyes were then drawn to her parents. It was wonderful to see them! They looked healthy and happy. Tears welled up in her eyes. Being quiet was becoming difficult.

Once he'd received reassurance from Didi, Cam's gaze was drawn to her original. Although she looked in every way exactly the same as _his_ Didi, he had no desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. The original Didi might just as well have been his Didi's twin sister, for all he cared about her. His heart belonged to the clone. He smiled.

After they'd finished studying the people they'd most wanted to see, they both took a quick look at the "young" man Didi's dad had invited to dinner—the son of Mr. Wilson, if Didi's guess was right—and they almost burst out laughing. She thought quickly, "**Take us back to our room on PX5 452**."

They were back instantly; the holograms disappeared in the blink of an eye. Unable to keep it in any longer, both Cam and Didi did indeed burst out laughing. "Did you see that guy?" Cam asked, falling back onto the bed, red-faced, his eyes squinty from holding back the tears.

Didi could hardly talk through her own laughter. "That's Trevor Wilson, I'm sure. He looks _so_ much like his old man. I can't believe my dad could be that desperate to marry me off!"

"Maybe it was Mr. Wilson's idea," said Cam, growing slightly more serious. "It seems _he_ oughta be the one desperate to marry off that gangly, long-beaked, big-eared, balding, forty-something geek."

"And he may figure I—or rather, _she_—can't afford to be that picky at this point in life."

Cam cocked his head to one side. "Fortunately, she'll be meeting the other me in a week or two."

Didi nodded and smiled. "I hope that goes well."

"So do I. If he blows it by coming on too strong right off the bat . . . I'll beat him to a pulp."

"She's going to be moving into a brand new home in a brand new city. I expect she'll look and feel almost as lost and disoriented as _I_ did when I first woke up here. Do you think that might be enough to cool his jets a little?"

"Probably. Thinking about it, if I saw you out in front of my building and could tell you were just moving in, I'd definitely volunteer to give you a hand. Would you consider that 'coming on too strong'?"

Didi shook her head. "No. I'd probably be grateful for the help and think to myself what a handsome guy you are. I'd be attracted to you immediately. . . But, would the attraction be mutual? Or would you simply be interested in lending a helping hand?"

"Depends. Would you offer to give me a cold beverage when we were done?" Cam teased.

"Probably," Didi responded, going along.

"That'd give us more time to talk and get acquainted . . . a good start."

"If you had on your uniform, that would help some. . . ."

"And if I told you I work at Cheyenne Mountain?"

"I'd be duly impressed and do everything I could to try to impress you, too—with my own natural charms, of course. I hope I wouldn't be too nervous and say or do something really inane or insipid."

"I think I'd understand if you did and cut you some slack. Then I think I'd ask you to go out for coffee with me some time."

"And I'd accept—and hope you wouldn't mind if I ordered hot chocolate instead."

"Didi . . ."

"Yes, Cam?"

"Why are we s'posin' what might happen with our originals? It's pointless. They have their lives to live and we have ours. What they do is irrelevant."

"I know. I just can't help hoping that they'll end up being as happy as we are. They could if they give each other a chance."

"Well then, why don't we take a peek into the future and see what it holds for those two?"

"How far into the future?"

"Oh, I don't know . . . six weeks, maybe?"

Didi closed her eyes. "**Show us the real Cam and the real Didi together six weeks from now**."

Again, a holographic projection appeared in the air before them. Cam and Didi were having dinner together at an upscale restaurant. Cam was in his uniform; Didi was wearing a royal blue satin dress. They both seemed to be enjoying themselves and appeared to be somewhat comfortable with each other. They were still feeling their way around a little bit, but they'd made progress.

"Looks like they've got a shot," observed Cam.

"If he can just keep his passion in check and not scare her away."

"She's moving into The Grenadier Arms on the first of October, right? Six weeks is forty-two days, and there are only ten days left in September. So that means thirty-two additional days, which would make that the first of November. . . ."

"They're probably celebrating the one-month anniversary of their first meeting, then," said Didi.

"If that's the case, he's definitely gone on her. I've never been one for that kind of anniversary celebration. But if Didi talked him into it, he's ready to go along with anything."

"And the fact that they're actually having a one-month anniversary celebration means that he _has_ behaved himself. If he hadn't, that dinner wouldn't be happening. They probably wouldn't be dating at all." She closed her eyes, concentrated, waved her hand and the projection was gone.

And none too soon: Cam's watch beeped three times. "Gor-lak must be coming."

"Or maybe lunch."

Cam looked at his watch. "Well, we only did have about an hour to spare when we left. . . ."

As the door was being unlocked, Cam and Didi sat down on the edge of the bed, holding hands.

The usual servant entered and placed the food cart in front of the seated couple then waited to see if they would eat. Toasted ham and cheese sandwiches were on the menu for the midday meal. There were French fries and onion rings on the side. Didi picked up a French fry, bit into it, and made a face.

Cam picked up his sandwich and bit off a corner. The sandwiches had been cut in half crosswise. The servant nodded, bowed a little, and then left the room. Cam chewed the piece he'd bitten off and set the sandwich back on his plate. "What's the face for?" he asked.

"The fries taste like they were cooked too quickly in too hot of oil—the greasy kind," said Didi. "The outsides are almost burnt, and the insides are still pretty hard."

"Can you fix it?"

"I was just about to try." She closed her eyes and said, "**Remove two-thirds of the grease from these French fries, cook them thoroughly on the inside and make them less burnt on the outside**."

Cam looked down at the fries. The color and texture changed visibly, right before his eyes.

"They look better now," Cam said, taking a bite of one. "Taste good, too."

"And the sandwich?"

"It's good," said Cam, nodding. "Good ham, good cheese."

"Try one of the onion rings. Since the fries were bad, chances are the onion rings are, too."

Cam took a tentative bite. "Eeww, gross! Yeah, they could use some work."

"Same problems?"

"Pretty much, although the coating kept them from getting as burnt as the fries. Just remove the grease, cook 'em a little more and make 'em . . . oh, twenty percent less crunchy on the outside."

Didi gave the command, as requested.

"You wanna try one?" Cam asked, holding one out to her.

"No. I don't really like onions. I only eat them when they're mixed in with other stuff," she said.

"So, I hafta eat all these onion rings myself?"

"No, just eat what you want. They don't _look_ any different, since the level of crunchiness wasn't visibly detectable."

"What'll we do with the _fries_ that don't get eaten? The servant may be able to tell the difference between what they look like now and what they looked like when he brought them."

"I can either change them back, or I can teleport them somewhere—maybe to a homeless shelter or something."

"Interesting idea. Anyway, let's just get on with the business of eating. I'm hungry."


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14: TIME AND THE MULTI-VERSE, PT. 1

After lunch—the fries having been dealt with and the cart taken away—Cam again brought up the possibility of Didi's being able to travel to alternate universes. "I have a specific alternate Earth in mind," he said. "But we're gonna need Sam's help with it, because she's the only one who's been there."

"Sam's been to an alternate Earth? How'd that happen?"

"She was developing a device that would eventually allow us to cloak an _entire planet_ in order to shield it from the Ori; at the same time, the Sam in the _other _universe was working on an experiment that would allow _their_ Earth to draw energy from alternate universes. Somehow, their experiments collided, sucking our Sam into _that_ universe and completely obliterating the other Sam."

"How awful!"

"Yeah, I imagine it was. But that's not the worst of it."

"Why? What happened?"

"According to what Sam told us, on that Earth, the Stargate was made public world-wide. Panic ensued: rioting in the streets, mass suicide, increased terrorism against the U. S. . . . you name it. Martial law was declared and the civil liberties were pretty much gone. Sam was forced to pretend to be the other Samantha Carter in public. Everyone at the SGC knew the truth, as did the President—who was none other than Hank Landry (although he was nowhere near as nice a guy as our _General_ Landry). But none of them wanted the _public_ to know. When she told them she'd been working on a way to cloak an entire planet, they wanted her to use it to try to cloak the earth because the Ori were already knocking on the door—_hard_. They promised her they'd help her to get back home if she'd do that for them."

"But of course they reneged."

"Of course. She went to everyone she knew for help—including that world's version of me. She wouldn't tell me what she'd found, and she got a pained look on her face when I asked. If he was dead, I expect she would've just told me so. Considering that I almost died in my 302, there's a possibility that one or more alternate Cam Mitchells may not've survived the crash. It wouldn't've surprised me. But the look on Sam's face told me he was still alive, but not in good shape."

"You want me to go to that universe and see if there's anything I can do to help that Cam?"

"Yeah, I guess so. But we oughta consult with Sam first. She talked to him; she knows his story. We might be better able to figure out how we can help him if we have her input."

"Why don't we have a look for ourselves?" Didi suggested. "Before I try to find out if I can _go_ to another universe, I should see if I can _scry_ it."

"Another holographic projection, then? Go for it."

Didi rose to her feet and said, "**Show us the meeting that took place on an alternate Earth between our Sam's original and that world's Cameron Mitchell**."

The moment the image appeared, Didi gasped. The sight that met her eyes brought tears to them. "Oh, Cam!" she said quietly, continuing to watch the scene unfold.

When Sam left Cam's apartment, Didi waved the image away and sank onto the bed in despair. "How could they treat him so callously? He was a hero! To toss him aside like that . . ."

"Now I know why she wouldn't tell me what the Cam on that world was like. The thought that _I_ could've become like him under those same—or similar—circumstances is pretty disturbing."

Didi nodded and gazed into his eyes. "If I can go there, Cam, I want to. He's another you, and I can't stand the thought of him suffering so much. There has to be _something _I can do to help."

"There might be, but we should talk to Sam about it first, like I said. We've seen her conversation with him, but she knows the whole situation better than we do—what he was actually up against."

"That's true," Didi acknowledged.

"Shall we go to the other room?—or do you wanna bring Sam here?"

"I'll bring Sam here and then go to the other room myself. The guys are used to us popping in, but if Sam just suddenly disappears from the room, they might go into a panic if they don't know why."

"I doubt they'd panic, but they probably would be concerned."

"**If there are no Chak-tuk in the other room, bring Sam here**," Didi enunciated.

Sam arrived right in front of the duo, but with her back to them. After turning around and realizing where she was-and, apparently, not entirely surprised to find herself there-she said, "Hey, guys! What's up?"

"A lot," Cam said. "Just give us a minute and we'll explain." He then addressed his wife. "You wanna set up a holographic image of Sam in the other room?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary," she said. "Let me pop in on the others for a minute and explain what's going on." She closed her eyes again and disappeared.

"Didi! Hi," said Daniel. "Did you just teleport Sam outta here?"

"Yes, I did. She's in our room, safe and sound**. **We need her for a consultation before I attempt a new use of my Power. If Gor-lak is about to drop by for any reason, I'll send her back before he arrives."

"How will you know if he comes?" Vala asked.

Didi smiled and said, "**Make Cam's watch beep twice if a Chak-tuk is on his way here, three times if one is heading to mine and Cam's room. Same time parameter as before. Make it so**."

"That works?" Daniel asked.

"It has before," Didi assured him. "Anyway, I'd better get back. Good to see you all again." She closed her eyes and was gone.

When Didi returned to her own room, Sam said, "Cam told me what you guys've been up to and what you've done in the way of time travel and long distance teleportation. He also told me you'd like to attempt to travel to the alternate Earth _I_ visited before." With a furrowed brow, she stated, "That's really _not_ a place you'd like to be, believe me."

"We understand that, Sam," said Cam. "But I just thought there might be something Didi can do to help that world's Cam Mitchell. We took a look at the visit you paid him. It wasn't encouraging."

"No, it wasn't. But that visit was a few years ago. Things may've changed for him since then—and not necessarily for the better. So, what did you mean when you said you 'took a look'? How?"

"Watch and see," Cam said, smiling impishly. "Didi, shall we take a look at what that Cam is up to now?"

Didi closed her eyes and made the request. "**Show us what the Cam Mitchell on the alternate Earth** **Sam previously visited is doing now**." A holographic projection appeared in the air.

Sam caught her breath. "That's incredible!"

Didi's attention was more narrowly focused. "It's a gravestone," she said sadly. "He's dead."

"Find out what happened to him," Cam requested quietly, fearing the answer.

"**Show us how that Cam Mitchell died**."

The holographic projection showed a decidedly despondent Cameron Mitchell, still in his wheelchair, who had obviously reached the end of his rope. An automatic pistol lay in his lap. He picked it up and was looking at it with resignation. The ladies had tears in their eyes, and all three viewers had lumps in their throats as they watched him put the pistol to his head. "**End it**!" Didi cried out, turning away. "I have to help him, Sam!" she said to their visitor. "I can't let that happen to _any_ Cam Mitchell—not _any_!" She was sobbing. "I'll do whatever I have to do to save him." Cam gathered her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

"The way the country is on that Earth right now, I wouldn't be surprised if that kind of suicide is a daily occurrence," said Sam. "I couldn't wait to get away from there—to go home. When I saw Cam's condition back then, I wanted to cry, too. But the last thing a man like Cam Mitchell wants or needs is pity. I steeled myself against what I was feeling and left. I was followed by some Government suits. For all I know, they may've gone up and harassed him afterward. I never went back. I never saw him again."

"She's right about the pity," Cam told Didi quietly as he held her close. "If that were me, and Sam started to cry when she saw me, I would've said 'Don't you pity me! Don't you _dare_ pity me.'"

"If you're going to help him, Didi, you're going to have to pull yourself together first," Sam told her. "You can't go in there like this."

Didi nodded. "I know. I understand." She took a deep breath to help stop the crying and slowly turned around within her husband's embrace. He still had his arms wrapped around her, but she was now facing forward, her back pressed up against Cam. "So, how do you advise that I proceed?"

Sam shook her head. "I'm not sure." She paced the floor. "It's a really difficult situation. If you go there sometime after my visit, I don't know what kind of a reception you'll get. But if you go _before_ my visit—before he meets me—it'll change _my_ history, because he won't be in that wheelchair like he was when I met him. He may not even be in that apartment anymore."

"It would cause a paradox if you never met him at all," Didi surmised.

Sam nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"But, won't that be negated by the fact that you're _not_ the actual Samantha Carter who went to that world in the first place?" queried Cam. "You're here now, watching all of this, aware of what Didi wants to do. . . . And even if your _original's_ visit to that world is changed, that doesn't necessarily mean it will affect _your_ memories of what happened the first time around."

"It's difficult to say," said Sam. "However, if Cam wasn't living in Colorado Springs anymore, I doubt she would've gone all the way to Kansas to see him. So what _would_ that do to my memories?"

"You were cloned from the Sam who _did_ experience all of that, so it shouldn't affect _your_ memories at all—only hers," said Didi. "That's logical isn't it?"

"I suppose it is," Sam acknowledged with a shrug. "Okay, so let's operate under that assumption and not worry about paradox. What, then, should Didi do?"

"May I make a suggestion?" spoke up Cam.

"Of course!" Didi responded, turning her head and looking up at him. "If anyone can understand where his head's at and how he might react, it would be you. What do you suggest, love?"

"I suggest honesty—to some degree. Go a day or two—no, make that two or three days—after Sam's visit. Give him time to settle down: she'll be on his mind for a while and he might not be too open to another unexpected visitor so soon. Tell him you're a friend of hers . . . ."

Didi pulled away, turned around to look at her husband and said, "Hold that thought. I have an idea." Then, turning to face outward again, she ordered, "**Show us the same Cam Mitchell immediately after Sam's visit**."

It didn't take long before another knock sounded on Cam's door. Government suits. "Hey, come on in, fellas!" he greeted them. "Seems like I'm a real popular guy today."

"What'd Colonel Carter want?" one of the men asked.

"To see what her future holds if she keeps buckin' the system, I guess," Cam replied. "Can I get you guys a cup of . . . Wait a minute! Did you just call her 'Colonel' Carter? I thought she was only a major."

"She's getting a promotion," the second man said, trying to cover his partner's blunder.

"Yeah, well, she hasn't got it yet, so don't you go calling her 'Colonel' until it's official. You got that?"

"She didn't say anything to you about what her plans might be?" the first man asked.

Cam laughed. "Now why would she go and tell _me_ anything? I'm a has-been. (Pro'bly woulda been better if I was a never-was.)" He laughed again, bitterly. "Anything else, boys? The offer of coffee still stands. . . ."

The two men left without another word and Cam laughed again as they slammed the door.

"**End it**," Didi said. She sighed and shook her head. "I haven't a clue how to handle this. I have this feeling that, in his current state of mind—I mean, the state of mind he was in at that time that we just viewed—he wouldn't _want_ me to heal him. He doesn't think he has anything to go back to."

"What about Mom and Dad?" Cam asked.

Didi nodded. "**Show us why that Cam didn't go home to Auburn**."

Cam was in a hospital bed. One of "The Suits" was talking to him.

"You understand, Colonel Mitchell—if you say _anything_ to _anyone_, if you _make waves_, if you _spout off_ . . . well, let's just say . . . we know where your parents live."

Cam laughed ironically. "You mean, you know where they _lived. _You'd best update your files." He then turned deadly serious and went on, "They died from the Ori plague while trying to come here to see me. There's nothing more you can _do_ to me and nothing more you can _take_ from me. Do your worst. It'd be a mercy."

"**End it!**" said Didi tearfully. Cam muttered a mild expletive. Didi looked at him, but not with disappointment or chastisement in her eyes. She understood how he felt.

"So, he _didn't _think he had anything left to live for," said Sam, "—not even his parents."

"He couldn't go home," Didi whispered sadly. "It's no wonder he—"

"If he'd met that world's version of you," said Cam, "he might've had something to live for. But, in _that_ condition . . . even _you_ probably wouldn't want him."

"I'll have to go back further into the past, then," Didi decided. "But how far?"

"Maybe if you went back and healed him either right before or right after he was dropped by the government . . . ." Sam suggested.

"When his fighting spirit was still alive." Didi inferred. She nodded. "Yes, I could do that. Then he could go home for a while and—"

"Maybe you could tell him . . . about _you_," Cam put in.

"You think I should tell him the truth about who _I _am and let him know there's another me back in Topeka, just waiting to meet him?"

"I'm sure you could do better than that. Make it about _her—_about what _she_ needs, not about _him_ and _his _problems. It'll bring out that heroic streak you seem to think I've got." Cam smiled.

"And since he seems to've been in a frame of mind to do something noble at that time," said Sam, "it just might work."

"Maybe you should find out first whether there _is_ a Didina Steadman on that Earth," Cam suggested. "If there is, you should try to find out _where_ she is and what she's doing. There might be some differences."

Didi nodded. "**Show me where the Didina Steadman of this alternate Earth was at the time that Cam Mitchell was in the hospital for his final treatment**."

"It looks like she's at an optical," said Sam when the image appeared.

"Yep, that's my workplace, all right," Didi acknowledged. "She's in Topeka—exactly where she should be at this juncture."

"Well, that's good news, at least," stated Sam, "for that Cam, anyway—if he has sense enough to go there and meet her."

"That's where _I_ come in," said Cam. "I'm going to try to help you convince him, Dee. He needs to know that you and I—and therefore he and she—are a good match."

Didi looked thoughtful as she said, "Let's do it, then."

She held out her hand for Cam. He shook his head and said, "Sweetie, I know you're in a hurry to do this, but . . . we've spent a lot of time checking out the lay of the land (so to speak), and they'll be delivering dinner in about an hour or so. It might take longer than that to accomplish everything we need to do there. So let's wait, shall we?"

Didi nodded. "After dinner, then. See you later, Sam. And thanks for the input." She then sent the blond-haired colonel back to her friends in the other room and said, "**Cancel the two-beep alarm on Cam's watch**."

Cam went to the bathroom and came back with Didi's Milky Way. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

"Thanks, love! I'm spent!"

"So, Didi thinks she can actually travel to alternate universes as well as through time?" Daniel was asking Sam.

Sam nodded and told her companions what she had witnessed and experienced while in Cam and Didi's room. "She's going to try to go to that alternate Earth and see if she can heal that Cam Mitchell. I don't envy her. That whole situation was a mess. Still, if she can do anything to save his future—even if he never again flies a 302 and never travels through the Stargate—it'd be worth it to know that at least he was able to live a full and happy life of some kind."

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "A man such as Colonel Mitchell, who has done so much to protect Earth, is deserving of far better than he has been given on that world. If Didina is capable of helping him to find and make a better life for himself, I wish her much success in her endeavor."

"I wonder how it's going to go. . . ." Sam mused.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15: TIME AND THE MULTI-VERSE, PT. 2

Dinner was from a steakhouse this time around. Which franchise was represented was irrelevant. Cam had a large T-bone; Didi a small sirloin. On the side, they each had a baked potato (with butter and sour cream in separate cups); a cobette of corn; and a small loaf of fresh-baked bread in a wicker basket. Thankfully, cloth napkins of a sort had been provided, as the cobettes of corn had no holders and had to be eaten by hand.

"Oh, man! This is _so_ good!" Cam declared, cutting and chewing his steak. "Perfect!"

"I expect you'd think it was perfect even if it wasn't, since it's been so long since you've had a steak dinner," Didi said with a smile. She then closed her eyes, concentrated and said, "**Transmute my water into pink lemonade, sweetened with two packets' worth of sugar**."

"Do you think you could give me a Coke?" Cam asked, looking at her pleadingly.

"Sure," she replied, nodding. She closed her eyes and made the request; Cam's water turned dark brown and bubbly. She then said, "**Add two ice cubes—from the respective freezers of our originals—to each glass**."

"Nice touch!" Cam commented. "You're sure they won't miss a couple of ice cubes?" he teased.

"Ice cubes are more easily replaced than a bottle of beer, love," Didi stated.

"True enough. Listen, do you remember the other day when I said it'd be nice to have a couple of folding chairs to sit on while we're eating? I never did get around to asking Gor-lak to get us some, and I was wondering—"

"Do you really mind all that much sitting on the edge of the bed?"

"No, not really. I've gotten kind of used to it now, and it's pretty much the right height for the cart, anyway. Back in the other room we had to sit on the floor and hold our plates in our laps. We didn't have beds or anything else to sit on. So, no, it really isn't all that bad here. I take it you don't wanna do it, then, huh?"

"It would just be one more thing we'd have to hide or make invisible." She shook her head. "I'd rather not deal with anything more than I absolutely have to."

"Yeah, you're right. And who knows? We might end up forgetting to hide them or cloak them sometime, and Gor-lak would find out we've got 'em . . . Yeah, we'll just keep sittin' here on the edge of the bed."

After they'd finished eating, Didi once again changed the remains of their drinks back to their original form. She then vaporized the ice.

Content and satisfied, Cam pushed the cart away and rolled back onto the bed, lying on his back with his head on his pillow. "I am stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey," he said.

"Me, too," Didi admitted, turning sideways on the edge of the bed and looking at him. "I guess we'll have to wait a while before making our trip into the other Cam's past."

"Yeah, it might not make a great impression if we're . . . urp . . . excuse me . . . burping the entire time we're there." Cam yawned and his eyes began to close. Before long, he was gently snoring. It was so quiet, in fact, that it really couldn't be called snoring. It was more just the rhythmic sound of his breathing, slow and deep—evidence that he had fallen asleep.

Didi smiled. Why was it that men always fell asleep after eating a big meal? Her father did; her brother did; her ex-husband always had. . . . It was such a _guy_ thing to do.

She sat and pondered for awhile, trying to decide how to pass the time until Cam woke back up. She thought about Cam's heroic nature—of the few stories she'd heard concerning his exploits—and then she came to a decision. "**Show me the most heroic thing Cam Mitchell has ever done**," she requested.

The holographic projection appeared. Cam was in company with the rest of SG-1 and some other people she didn't recognize, one of whom turned out to be General Jack O'Neill. A tall man with dark hair, a beaky nose, and facial hair that would've looked appropriate on the Sheriff of Nottingham seemed to be the center of their attention. It was, evidently, Ba'al, the last of the Goa'uld system lords. He was claiming that he was the last _clone_ of Ba'al—that the _real_ Ba'al was still out there somewhere and about to change everything. They didn't believe him, of course. And then Vala disappeared. At first they thought she'd just gone to the bathroom. But Teal'c soon disappeared, as well—right in front of their eyes. One by one, all of the Tok'ra in the room (for so the Ba'al clone had called them) began to disappear. General O'Neill ran up to the clone, grabbed him angrily and asked, "What have you done with my people?" The clone grabbed the needle—the contents of which were intended to be used to extract the symbiote—and stabbed Gen. O'Neill with it, mortally wounding him. He didn't die, however, until after he'd ordered the others—Sam, Cam, and Daniel—to get to the Stargate and leave.

When they came out the other end, they should've been at the SGC, but they weren't. They were on a ship at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean! Didi watched in ardent fascination as the adventure unfolded before her eyes. By the time it neared its conclusion, she was sobbing, and Cam was waking up.

"Dee? What's wrong? What're you crying about now? What the . . .?" He had noticed the projection and crawled over to sit beside his wife and watch.

"**Pause**," she said. "I asked to see the most heroic thing Cam Mitchell ever did." She looked at him earnestly and continued, "You (or rather, _he_) did go back in time—to 1929, to keep Ba'al from sinking the ship that was taking the Stargate to America—the very ship your grandfather was on."

"Ba'al? No, Dee, you've got it wrong. We were all with the Tok'ra when they removed Ba'al's symbiote. He claimed he was the last clone and that the . . . real Ba'al was . . . still out there . . . somewhere. . . ." Cam swore as light dawned. "He was, wasn't he? He was messing with time and—"

Didi nodded. "He had a time machine that utilized the solar flare factor and he used it to go back to 1939 to stop the Stargate from reaching America."

"Then why did Cam go back to nineteen-_**twenty**_-nine?"

"He, Sam, Daniel and Teal'c found the time machine and wanted to use it to try and stop Ba'al. Daniel was killed and Teal'c severely wounded in a battle with Qetesh's Jaffa, while Sam tried to set the time machine for something a little closer to 1939. But she, too, was killed before she finished. 1929 was as close as she was able to set it before she died, so Cam had no choice but to go to 1929, or _he_ would've been killed, too. I was about to see what happened next. Care to watch with me?"

"Well, yeah. . . ." said Cam, as if it was the stupidest question he'd ever heard.

Didi smiled softly. "**Unpause**," she said.

Cam was in the ship's hold, along with one of his grandfather's crewmen. He had aged ten years since his arrival in the past. Therefore, the resemblance between himself and his grandfather was even more pronounced than it had been before. The crewman thought he _was_ his grandfather. Cam barked out orders and the man obeyed them.

Soon the Stargate activated, the wormhole opened up, and a contingent of Jaffa came through, followed by Ba'al. Cam and the crewman took out the Jaffa, and then, with the precision of a trained marksman, Cam shot Ba'al right in the forehead. The look of surprise on the face of the Goa'uld system lord upon seeing Cam on that ship in 1939 was priceless. The last time he had seen Col. Mitchell was in the future, sometime prior to the change he'd made in the timeline. What a shock it must've been to find him in a time and a place that he most definitely did _not_ belong!

Cam got up from the bed and walked a few paces away. "They really did take the symbiote from the last _clone_," he muttered. "The original Cam killed Ba'al in 1939! He restored the timeline and then must've lived out the rest of his life in the past. I always wondered about that picture Grandma gave me that I keep on my locker door . . . that _he_ keeps on _his_ locker door." He guffawed shortly and shook his head. "I'll be da—arned."

Didi ended the projection and went to wrap her arms around her husband from behind. "I always knew you were heroic, Cam, but . . . what I just saw . . . that beats anything I ever could've imagined."

"Yeah, no kidding. So . . . how did it all start, anyway?"

"You can watch the whole thing later if you want to. Right now we have another Cam Mitchell to save."

Cam turned around and gazed down at his wife. "Yes, we do. I only hope he's worth saving."

"He's another version of you, Cam. He was dumped by the government because he questioned what they were doing. They didn't want him making waves and speaking out publicly against presidential policy. I'd say he's _definitely_ worth saving."

"And he only has to be a hero in Didi's eyes."

His wife nodded. "That's right. The world he lives in isn't a forgiving one. He won't be able to go back to the Air Force or become leader of SG-1 the way you did. The best he can do is make a life for himself back in Kansas, hopefully with Didi."

"And if he does that," said Cam, "chances are his parents won't die, either. If they stay put, on the farm, they should be out of harm's way."

"So, what do you think he'd do with his life if he chose to stay in Kansas with Didi?"

"He could always be a pilot of some kind," Cam said with a shrug. "Or he could just help out Mom and Dad on the farm."

"Anything would be better than spending all those years in a wheelchair and then committing suicide." Didi shook her head. "I'll never get that image out of my mind."

"I know what you mean. It haunts me, too. He and I—we're the same person. 'There, but for the grace of God, go I,'" Cam quoted. "That could've been me."

Didi nodded. "I know; that's why I want so desperately to help him. He deserves better—even if he can't have the life you've had."

"The life my _original_ is still living. . . ."

Didi put a hand to his cheek. "We'll find a world for you, Cam—a world where you can still be the leader of SG-1. I promise you."

"Whatever we can do, we'll do. As long as we can go to some Earth somewhere and live out our lives together as husband and wife and raise a few rug rats, that's all I care about."

"So, how should I approach him?—teleport in?—go in through the door?"

"I'd advise teleporting in so that no one else sees us. But we should probably go in cloaked, just in case he's awake. No sense in freaking him out the moment we appear."

Didi nodded. "Okay. Now, what shall I wear?"

"Hospital garb of some kind: nurse's aide, candy striper . . . whatever."

A sudden thought popped into Didi's mind. She closed her eyes and concentrated. A T-shirt appeared in her hands. She took off the _**VOILA!**_ T-shirt and slipped on the new one.

"'Topeka Vision Center.' You're going to give him a clue?" Cam asked, puzzled.

Didi shook her head. "I'm not sure; I just had this really strong impression that I should wear this particular shirt." She sighed. "I guess I'll find out more when I get there."

She ran to the bathroom, brushed her hair, and then fluffed it with her fingers. "Okay," she said, coming out of the bathroom and approaching her husband. "Take my hand and let's do this." There was a quaver in her voice. Cam sensed her anxiety over this particular undertaking. He didn't think it was because she doubted her ability to reach the time and place of their desired destination, but rather that she was not yet sure what she should say and do once they got there.

Before leaving, she reinstated the holographic images program. That done, she closed her eyes tightly and concentrated. "**Take us to the hospital room of the Cam Mitchell in the alternate universe that we viewed earlier, with the following parameters: first, cloak us; second, let us arrive an hour before his final treatment. Make it so**."

A moment later, they found themselves in the other Cam's hospital room. They were cloaked, as requested, but the coast was clear. There were no medical personnel in the room, and the other Cam was evidently sleeping. Didi silently made herself visible, while keeping her husband cloaked. "Stand watch, please, Cam. Let me know if anyone's coming."

"Okay," he replied. He moved to the door and looked out through the little window into the corridor. He realized then why his wife had left him cloaked: it was best if no passersby saw his face in that window.

Didi stood next to the bed, looking down at the sleeping Cam, still worried and perplexed as to how to handle the situation. _What should I do? Should I wake him? Should I talk to him? If I do, what should I tell him?_

The Voice she had heard once before came into her mind again: _Heal him, Didina._

She nodded mutely, but thought, _Will he be okay?_

The Voice came again: _Have faith._

She exhaled a heavy sigh, put her hands on his forehead, closed her eyes, and whispered, "**Make him well and whole in every part of his mind and body, that he might be strong and healthy and . . . have inner peace**."

As she backed away from the bed and prepared to leave, his eyes fluttered open slowly. Didi suspected that he was feeling the changes taking place throughout his body, causing him to awaken.

"What's going on?" he said groggily. His eyes then found and focused on Didi. "Who are you?"

"Didina Steadman," she replied in a conversational tone, endeavoring to keep her voice steady. Silently, she requested that she become invisible gradually, so that it would look as though she were fading out. "Find me," she said aloud, as she began to slowly disappear.

In her mind, she thought, _**Take my Cam and me back to our room on PX5 452. **_Immediately after returning to their room, Didi made Cam and herself visible again and subsequently collapsed onto the bed, weak in the knees. She exhaled heavily, as she had done before.

"Dee, what just happened?" Cam asked, going to the bathroom to get her Milky Way. When he returned, he sat down beside her.

She took a bite of the candy bar and then told him exactly what had happened.

"The voice just told you to heal him and to have faith?"

"Yes, exactly."

"And at the end?—when he woke up?"

"I realized then that that's why I had to wear this T-shirt," she replied. "God knew he'd wake up and see me. He was so groggy, he probably thought it was a dream or a vision. But he would never have gotten the image of me out of his mind until he met the Didi on _his_ world." She took another bite of the candy bar and handed it to her husband.

"And he'd go to the Topeka Vision Center looking for her," Cam surmised, returning the Milky Way to the bathroom.

"That was the plan, I think."

"He probably thought his being healed was a miracle, that the vision of the pretty blonde named Didina Steadman was a sign, and that, somehow, the two were connected."

"I think that's the whole idea. You're not a man of great faith, Cam Mitchell. God knows that as well as you and I do. But finding out the truth about _us_ wouldn't've really helped him any. It might've caused him to want things that aren't possible for him on that world, in that society. If it's Didina Steadman he needs to make his life worthwhile, then all that was required was for him to be shown the future that was available to him."

"And where to go to find it—thus the T-shirt."

"Yes. As soon as he was able, I'm positive he went to Topeka to look for her."

"If he has half a brain, he did."

Didi smiled. "Do you really love me that much, Cam, that you think every Cam in every universe should have me in his life?"

He put a hand on her cheek and gazed into her eyes. "What do _you_ think? You love _me_ so much that you can't stand the thought of any Cam Mitchell being in pain, or suffering in any way. Our relationship is cosmic, Dee. It's positively cosmic."

"**Send the shirt I'm currently wearing back to Didi's closet, clean and fresh**."

The shirt disappeared from her body; she grabbed for the other shirt she'd dropped onto the bed before they'd left, but Cam shook his head. "No need for that, Didi," he said, taking her shirt and letting it fall to the floor. "No one's coming back here tonight. They never drop in once the dinner cart's been taken away, you know that. I want your full and undivided attention for the next hour or so."

She smiled wanly. "You've got it." She leaned forward, her lips pursed for a kiss.

"If I'd known being married was gonna be like this, I'd've done it years ago," said Cam some time later, as he held Didi close. She lay with her head on the left side of his chest, her left hand toying with the hair in the middle of it.

She sniggered and raised her head so that she could look into his eyes. "You said you'd never found the time or the right woman. In any case, I've been married before, and, believe me, it was never like this."

"How much of that had to do with your choice of a husband?"

"You fishin' for a compliment, Colonel?" Didi asked with a smile.

"No! . . . Well, maybe."

Didi laughed and sat up, looking at her husband with amusement. Then she grew more serious and said, "When you're living a normal, everyday life, marriage can be a real challenge—even when you really love each other. Jobs, bills, responsibilities . . . all get in the way. Romance takes a back seat to expediency and necessity. You don't have the time or the energy to devote to the more intimate side of your relationship—not as much as you'd _like_ to have, anyway."

Cam rubbed her back and replied, "I don't care _what_ happens after you and I find an alternate world to live on: if I go off world, every moment I'm home I intend to spend with you by my side—and in my arms as much as possible. These last two days have been Heaven, Dee. I don't want it to end."

She smiled crookedly. "We could always just stay here. . . ."

"Huh! Like _that's_ gonna happen!" He sat up and leaned against the wall.

Didi turned around a little and put a hand on his knee. "All I'm saying is—"

Cam sighed. "I know what you're saying, Dee: I shouldn't expect the honeymoon to last forever. I don't. I just _wish_ it could. Now that I finally have found the right woman, I just wanna hold her in my arms every night and make love to her as often as possible."

"I love you, Cam." She leaned over and kissed him tenderly.

"We still have a couple of hours 'til bedtime," he said, reaching out to put her hair behind her ear. "Do you have any other experiments you'd like to try, to pass the time?"

She sat up straight, bit her lip, looked into his eyes and said, "I'd like to see what happened to the other Cam. What I did was in the _past_—a few years ago. I'd like to see what's going on _now_."

Cam sighed. "I wish you wouldn't obsess so much."

"We spent _hours_ trying to decide how I could best help him. I did what I could—what I was _allowed_ to do. I just wanna see the end result, that's all."

He gave her a wry smile. "All right. Let's take a look, then."

Cam's watch began to beep three times. "Oh, crap! What does Gor-lak want with us _this_ time of night?"

"**Put our clothes back on us**," commanded Didi, "_**correctly and comfortably**_."

"Whew!" said Cam when his clothes settled onto his body without any problem. "Thanks for the addition of 'correctly and comfortably.' I wouldn't want a wedgie right now."

They lay down on the bed, facing each other, their elbows bent, their heads propped up. "So, do you like the Chiefs?" Cam asked nonchalantly.

Gor-lak entered at that moment, delaying Didi's answer to Cam's question.

"Ah, good! You're dressed, I see. I was afraid I might be . . . interrupting something."

"What do you want, Gor-lak?" Cam asked, sitting up. Didi rolled over and joined him.

"I merely came to inform you that Dr. Jackson and Colonel Carter will be entering the arena tomorrow. The Committee has decided to allow the human females—Colonel Carter and Miss Mal Doran, at least—to fight in the arena alongside their male companions. Since they are not Chak-tuk, they are not subject to the same rules or laws which govern _our _females in regard to the games."

"So, we're gonna get to watch?" Cam asked.

"Indeed," Gor-lak replied, bowing his head in acknowledgement. "Have I ever kept any of you from watching each other perform?"

Cam shook his head. "No, you haven't. So, what time is this little show gonna take place?"

"The same time as the one you and your . . . wife . . . participated in."

"Sometime between three and four in the afternoon, then. Cool. We'll be there with bells on . . . as long as someone comes and lets us out. . . ."

"You will have an appropriate escort."

"All righty, then. We'll see you tomorrow sometime, I expect?"

"No doubt. Have a good night, Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell." Gor-lak bowed out, leaving the couple alone once more.

"Daniel and Sam, huh?" commented Didi. "That should be interesting."

"Yeah, it should. The Chak-tuk are bending and breaking all the rules for us. They're gonna be pretty . . . _unhappy_ after we're gone. Now, do you like the Chiefs?"

"Yes, I do," said Didi. "They're certainly not the _best_ team in the NFL—far from it. But they're our team and I'm a very loyal fan."

"Do you still wanna take a look at the life the other Cam is leading?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then do it, Dee. I know you won't rest until you find out if he's happy."

"**Show us what kind of life the Cam Mitchell I healed this evening is living now**," she said.

An image appeared of Cam running down a flight of wooden stairs, the center of which was covered by a carpet runner with a maroon and black pattern. On his shoulders was a small boy with straight brown hair, dimples, and a huge smile on his cherubic face. He was laughing with delight.

Cam was dressed in worn out jeans and a standard black pocket T-shirt. His feet were bare. "And it's Cam and Cory in the lead. . . . Will they cross the finish line before Dee and Stephie?"

Didi's voice rang out from above. "Cam, I wish you wouldn't run down the stairs with Cory on your back like that! It's not safe! Stephie and I will be down as soon as I finish feeding her and change her diaper. Why don't you go ahead and start breakfast?"

"I'll get the coffee brewing and put the bacon on the griddle," Cam called back up to her. "I'll leave the eggs and hotcakes to you, love."

"Even just looking up the stairs where he knows she is, he has the same light in his eyes that _you_ have when you look at me," Didi commented.

"Yeah, he does."

"The children . . . I wonder . . . Are they hers . . .?"

"End it, Dee." Cam looked at her seriously.

"**End it**," she commanded. Then she turned to look at her husband.

"Does it matter whether she gave birth to the kids or whether they were adopted? They're happy together. The little boy—Cory—is happy. What more do you need to know?"

"So, it doesn't matter? It wouldn't've mattered if—"

"No," said Cam positively, putting a hand to her cheek, "it wouldn't've mattered. I'm not Tad. I don't have a problem with adoption, surrogacy or anything else. You wanna be a mom—that's all that matters."

"I do love you, Cameron Mitchell." She put her hands on his chest and kissed him passionately.

After the kiss ended, Cam said, "What say we go take a shower together? We can scrub each others' . . . backs."

Didi smiled and nodded. Right now, life was good.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16: GOING HOME . . . MORE OR LESS

Once they had retired for the night—Didi wearing her pajamas and her husband wearing boxers and a T-shirt—Cam lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Didi again had her head on his chest and was listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. It had been a full day, and tomorrow was bound to be just as full. Cam sighed.

"Is something wrong, love?" Didi asked him.

"I think we oughta try to escape tonight," he told her.

"Tonight? Why?"

He slid out from under her head slowly, giving her time to sit up. Then he called out, "Lights at ten percent." Once they were both sitting up and able to see each other's faces, however dimly, he said, "I don't want Jackson and Carter to have to go into the arena together tomorrow. Day _after_ tomorrow it'll be _our _second turn, and I don't relish the thought of seeing you tied to that danged pole again. It was hard enough the first time. Anyway, we know now that you can teleport us to anyplace at anytime, so there's really no reason for us to stay here."

"But where would we go? We can't just take off willy-nilly without some kind of a destination."

"I know. And I've been thinking about that."

"When? When did you have time to think about it?"

"While I was scrubbing your back and washing your hair."

"You were multi-tasking, huh?"

"Yeah, I am capable of doing that from time to time."

"I wasn't implying that you're not, Cam. I'm sorry if it sounded that way. So, where would you like us to go?"

"Lights at sixty percent," he called out. "I want you to look for something for me: an abandoned SGC somewhere that's still capable of being operational—just the complex. I don't care about the 'gate."

"A safe base of operations, is that it?"

"Yeah. We need a place with beds and bathrooms, showers . . . maybe even a few weapons that haven't been removed yet. The SGC has all of that, plus an infirmary and a kitchen. We wouldn't necessarily need the infirmary—not with _you_ around. But the kitchen would come in handy. You could procure us some food from somewhere—produce that's overripe or packaged goods that have reached their expiration dates, any of which have been tossed out by grocery stores. I don't care where you get it from or how you get it. I just know you have an aversion to stealing, so . . . whatever you have to do. I'm sure you could make old food fresh again. Look what you did to those French fries and onion rings and to the water in the bathroom. It shouldn't be any harder than that to freshen up old food. But that's just part of what we'd be dealing with once we got there."

Didi nodded. "I know. Ever since I found out that I can teleport us through both time and space, I've been considering our options. When you said you might be able to take the place of a Cam Mitchell who died in some other universe, it got me to thinking: maybe we could do that for everyone else, too. If we could find a perfect world—the perfect time and place for the others as well as for ourselves—it'd be an answer to _all_ of our prayers. We all need somewhere to fit in—to belong. But it might take an entire night just to do one person. There's no way I could find homes for all six of us in one session. If anyone turned up missing—"

"—that'd be all she wrote," Cam finished.

"Exactly, so your idea of a base of operations is a good one." She crawled over to the edge of the bed and sat down.

Cam joined her and said, "Let's take a look and see what we can find."

"**Show us an SGC that has been . . . decommissioned but is still usable**," said Didi.

The holographic projection looked promising. "It appears to be intact," said Cam.

"**Show us the 'gate if it's still there, or show us where it used to be."**

There was the ramp, but there was no 'gate. "It's gone—which isn't really all that surprising," said Cam. "It's possible they never got it away from the Russians—or maybe Ba'al. Anything's possible. It doesn't really matter. The important thing is that the SGC is still intact."

"**Show us the living quarters in this SGC**."

"Yep, all the rooms and furniture are still in one piece."

"**Show us the bathrooms and showers**." After looking them over too, Didi sighed. "Looks like we may've found ourselves a new home, Cam." She waved the holographic projection away with a gesture and a thought. "Shall we get dressed and check it out before waking the others?"

"Yeah, let's do that."

They had already found fresh, clean clothes in their dresser drawers. They got into them quickly, after which Didi went to the bathroom to get her Milky Way and then summoned a flashlight from Cam's original's apartment, which she promptly gave to him.

"Lights out," Cam called. "I don't know whether light seeps through under this door or not, but I don't wanna take any chances."

"I agree," Didi said, sliding the candy bar into her pocket. She then closed her eyes and concentrated while Cam took hold of her hand with his free one.

"Send us to the Gate Room, Dee. That's the best place to start, 'gate or no 'gate."

"**Teleport us to the Gate Room of the decommissioned SGC we were just viewing**."

"It's huge!" Didi commented when they arrived.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said Cam, turning on his flashlight. "I felt the same way the first time I came into this room. I just wish you could see the 'gate up close and not just in holographic projections."

"I expect I'll have that opportunity sooner or later," Didi replied. "Shall I turn on the power?—or shall we just have a look around with the flashlight first?"

"Cheyenne Mountain has its own, independent power source," said Cam, "—banks of _very large_ generators, some of which are located here, inside the SGC. If you'd like to try powering them up, go ahead. I don't think anyone upstairs will notice."

"**Activate power generators inside the SGC**," Didi commanded. They heard the huge machines turn on. Cam smiled. "Now what?" Didi asked. "Should we go around flipping light switches?"

"Nope. Even though you've activated the generators, the light switches won't work 'til the electrical system itself is turned on—at least, I _think_ it works that way. I could be wrong. But Sam probably knows the setup better than any of the rest of us. If necessary, she can turn on the electricity and whatever other systems we'll need for our purposes once we bring her here. In the meantime, we'll use the flashlight for looking around at the living quarters and anyplace else you're interested in. Then, after we bring everyone else here and the power's turned on, we can decide as a group where we want our main base of operations to be. My guess is they'll choose the main conference room. We've all been there numerous times and would be most comfortable in there, I think."

"Take me there."

"All right."

When they reached their destination, Cam panned the flashlight around the room and Didi took a look and nodded. "Yeah, this'll do nicely. Now, show me what used to be _your_ room."

"Okay, but it's just one of those like you saw in the projection. . . ."

"So, there isn't anything big enough for _both_ of us?"

"I suppose we could try the general's quarters. They're nicer, I hear. Never seen 'em myself, but . . . generals tend to be a bit more pampered than everybody else."

"Do you know where they are?"

"Sure. Right this way."

The general's quarters were nicely appointed as such rooms go. "Not too bad for an underground facility," Didi commented. "I think we could manage in here."

"At least the bed's big enough for two. It's not a king-size, but it'll have to do."

"Now, show me the kitchen—and any vending machines that might still have food in them."

The vending machines did, indeed, still have food in them—among other things.

"Yay! Milky Ways! I'm set!"

"Could you maybe get me a package of cupcakes out of here?" Cam asked. "I'm hungry!"

Didi closed her eyes, put her hands on the machine and concentrated. Seconds later, a package of cupcakes fell down the chute. She picked it up and said, "**Make these cupcakes as fresh as they were the day the delivery truck first picked them up from the factory**." She then handed the package to her husband. "Enjoy!"

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about," said Cam, "freshening up old food so we don't have to steal any new stuff. As long as it tastes good. . . ." He bit into it, closed his eyes and made sounds of pleasure.

"And as long as it has a certain amount of nutritional value," Didi added.

"There may be some vitamin supplements in the infirmary, now that I think about it," said Cam, "although they may be expired, too."

"I can probably freshen them, as well."

They finished their tour of the most important parts of the facility and Didi smiled. "I think we're ready to bring the others here."

"They're probably asleep. . . ." Cam pointed out.

"Maybe, maybe not. Sam and Daniel may be awake, contemplating tomorrow. But I didn't plan to just teleport them here without any warning. We need to go to their room and talk to them first."

"Let's go, then."

A few seconds later, they were in the common room back on PX5 452. "Hey guys!" said Cam in his normal tone of voice, which is to say, boisterous but not too loud.

"What the—? What're you two doing here after lights out?" Daniel asked, annoyed. There was a general grumble of agreement from the other three.

"We're escaping," said Cam matter-of-factly. "Lights at thirty percent," he called out.

"Wow!" said Sam as the lights came on. "We didn't know we could do that."

"Didi and I experiment a lot."

"So, what's this about escaping?" asked Vala excitedly.

"Didi's found us a base of operations on an alternate Earth somewhere. It's a decommissioned SGC that no longer has a Stargate. It's intact otherwise: coffee in the pantry, food in the vending machines, beds, bathrooms, showers . . . left over SGC clothes . . . . Even the generators still work.

"Didi has a plan to get each and every one of us a new life. It could take a while, though, to figure out the proper parameters for each person's ideal situation, so we figured it'd be best to go someplace safe, where we can work in peace for as long as it takes to get everyone settled."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Vala asked excitedly, fairly jumping from her cot.

"Before we go, I think we should decide whether we're going to take the clothes from our dresser drawers with us," said Sam. "Gor-lak took them from our originals, and if we just run off without them, they may never get them back."

"Just keep on what you're wearing for now," Didi advised. "There's an ample supply of clothes on hand at the SGC. They may not be fancy, but they're clothes. And we won't have to take anything from our originals if we just wear those for a while."

"But I don't want to _sleep_ in SGC clothes," whined Vala. "They're not all that comfortable."

"I could probably transmute an SGC suit into pajamas if you want, Vala. Transmutation is easy compared to _some _things I've done. I just need an item of about the same mass to do it."

"So, if I want some lightweight pajamas . . ."

"You'll need a smaller and/or lighter SGC uniform," Didi informed her.

"That could work."

"Or you girls could just use hospital gowns from the infirmary," said Cam, "and Didi can use her Power to stitch up the backs."

"Oh, I like that idea!" said Vala. "A shortie negligee is always better than pajamas!"

"Any other comments or questions?" Cam asked.

"I have been wondering for some time," said Teal'c, "why I have not needed an injection of tretonin since I have been here."

"Maybe they didn't give that part of your original's needs to you," suggested Cam. "They'd've been hard put to get their hands on the stuff . . . . Or maybe they saw it as an addiction and cleansed your body of it."

"Those are possibilities I had not considered," said Teal'c. "It is, however, something Didina and I will have to take into consideration when choosing my new life."

"We'll do whatever we have to, Teal'c," Didi promised him. "If you go back to a time when you were still supposed to have a symbiote, I'll get you one from somewhere and make changes to your body accordingly. If you're supposed to be on tretonin, I'll make _that_ happen." She turned her attention to the group at large and continued, "I know there're going to be complications in _all_ of your requests, but we'll work together to find solutions. I promise I'll try to find a time and a place for each of you somewhere in the multi-verse."

"With an almost infinite number of worlds and realities to choose from," said Sam, "I'd say your chances of succeeding are pretty good."

"I'd have to agree," said Daniel, "although I think my request is going to be the most difficult."

"We'll talk about it later, Jackson," said Cam. "Right now we need to gather up our stuff and get the heck out of Dodge."

Didi closed her eyes and said, "**Teleport to this room all of Cam's and my items of apparel from the other room**." The items dropped to the floor at the feet of their respective owners. Didi looked at them and smiled. She then closed her eyes again and said, "**Clean and deodorize any that are dirty and send them—along with the clean ones—back to the drawers and closets from whence they came. Make it so.**" The piles subsequently disappeared. "We'll deal with what we're wearing once we get to the SGC and can change clothes. Next . . . ." She closed her eyes yet again and said, "**Teleport to this room all of Cam's and my toiletries and other items from our bathroom**." Piles of items once again appeared at their feet.

Didi looked at everyone and said, "Since Gor-lak already acquired these things for us, and since we've already used them, I think we ought to just take them with us. It'll give me a few less things to have to procure when we get to the SGC."

"Mitchell, how did you get so lucky?" Daniel asked.

"Didi's a romantic, and she thinks I'm handsome and heroic."

"Uh-huh."

Didi smiled. "I wouldn't be able to do any of this if Gor-lak hadn't inadvertently given me the Power," she reminded Daniel. "I just try to make good use of it, that's all."

"Like I said, 'How did [Mitchell] get so lucky?'"

"You're sweet, Daniel," said Didi, walking over and planting a kiss on his cheek. She then returned to the center of the room, closed her eyes and said, "**Bring us, from a sporting goods warehouse on Earth, five backpacks that are flawed and have already been written off as a loss**." Five sturdy-looking backpacks appeared on the floor at her feet. "There you go, guys. Pack 'em up with your stuff and we'll take them with us to the SGC. We can send the clothes back to your originals once we get there and find you new things to wear."

"They don't have much in the way of underwear for women in the storerooms at the SGC," Vala stated petulantly.

"She's pretty much right about that," said Cam. "There're plenty of undershirts, T-shirts, boxers, and . . . other _guy _stuff. If you ladies prefer things of a more . . . _feminine_ nature, I'm afraid Didi'll have to make other arrangements."

"I can get underwear the same way I got these backpacks," said Didi. "Underwear can be tossed out when it's flawed, too, you know."

"And you'll fix the flaws, right?" Vala asked.

Didi nodded. "Of course."

"How about broken zippers?" asked Daniel, showing her his backpack. Didi repaired the broken zipper in an instant. While she was doing that, Cam was putting their toiletries into the one he had picked up for their use.

"Does anyone else's backpack have a flaw that needs repairing?"

"Mine has a water bottle pouch that was accidentally stitched shut, but since I don't need to put a water bottle in it, it doesn't really matter," said Sam. Nonetheless, Didi unstitched the pouch.

"Mine has a hole in the bottom corner where the material was weak and broke through," stated Vala. "Nothing I have in there is small enough to fall out, though, so I suppose it doesn't matter, either."

"I'll fix it anyway. Small holes tend to become bigger over time." It took less than two seconds to make the repair.

"Mine appears to have been very badly sewn," said Teal'c. "I have not needed to use the zipper to open it."

"Here, let me see," said Didi. She looked at it, assessed the problem and fixed it.

Teal'c bowed. "Thank you, Didina Steadman-Mitchell."

"You can call me 'Mrs. Mitchell' now if you want to, Teal'c. I'm kind of used to the idea now."

"It would be an honor."

"Uh, hun . . . ." said Cam.

"Yes, love?"

"One of the straps on ours needs to be fixed. It's broken, so it doesn't slide properly."

Didi fixed the strap, after which Cam put the backpack on and said, "So, is everyone ready to go? Have you got all of your stuff?"

There was a general murmur in the affirmative.

"Let's go, then," said Cam. "Everybody hold hands with someone. . . ." Once that was done, he said, "Dee . . . ."

"**Take all six of us to the Gate Room of the decommissioned SGC Cam and I visited earlier**."

As soon as they arrived, Cam switched on his flashlight.

"It really is intact," said Daniel, "except for the 'gate being missing, of course. But there could be a number of reasons for that."

"That's what I told Didi," said Cam.

"Would it be all right with everyone if I take the quarters that've always been mine?" Vala asked.

"I think we're _all_ probably going to do that," said Daniel. "I know _I'd_ be a lot more comfortable in familiar surroundings."

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c.

"Didi and I are going to take the general's quarters," Cam told the group. "It's the only room that has a bed big enough for two people."

"That's not _entirely_ true," said Sam. "The VIP suites are nice, and a lot of the rooms have double beds."

"Yeah, but . . . the general's bed is the biggest one of all."

"You guys really are spoiled," said Daniel.

"Yeah, ain't it grand?" crowed Cam.

"Are we going to all have to depend on Mitchell's flashlight?" Daniel asked.

"Nope," said Cam. "Didi's already powered up the generators. Sam, do you think you could get the general lighting systems operational, so we can find our way to our respective rooms for the night?"

"Why don't we just turn on the power complex-wide?" Daniel asked.

"We could," said Sam, "but it would be a terrible waste of energy. I'll just turn on the systems we're going to need and leave the rest off."

"Just like before, we're going to have to turn on individual light switches in each room, though," Cam reminded them. "We'll have access to whatever other systems we want once Sam gets them up and running."

"Could I . . . maybe . . . use the computer system?" Daniel asked. "I'd like to see if there are any records of what happened here."

Sam nodded. "I'll boot up the system and take a look at it with you. But I'd like to wait until morning. Cam, what's the time difference between here and PX5 452?"

"From what Didi and I were able to ascertain on previous visits to _our_ Earth, it's about two hours later here than it is on Planet Max."

"Let's all take our gear to our respective rooms, then, and get some sleep," suggested Daniel.

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c. "We can concern ourselves with our other needs in the morning—after we are all fully rested and Mrs. Mitchell has had time to recover her energy."

"Just sleep in what you're wearing for now, and Didi'll make other arrangements tomorrow," said Cam. "She and I already sent our stuff home to our originals, so we're gonna have to find _her_ something to sleep in—"

"Or not," said Vala impishly.

"Vala . . ." said Daniel.

"What?" she asked innocently.

Daniel shook his head. "Never mind. . . ."

"I'll get the electrical systems up and running before I go to bed," Sam volunteered. "If you can all wait a couple of minutes, we'll have lights for the passages and the elevators."

Cam gave Sam the flashlight so that she could find her way to the electrical panel and flip the appropriate switches; the rest of the group remained in the Gate Room until the lights came on. Then, bidding one another good night, they separated to their various rooms.

In some ways, for the five clones of SG-1, it was almost like coming home.


	17. Chapter 17

**PART 2: ADVENTURES IN THE MULTI-VERSE**

CHAPTER 17: SETTLING IN

By one a.m., MDT, everyone had procured SGC clothes to put on in the morning and had settled into their respective rooms for the night. Didi had gone to the infirmary to get one of the hospital gowns and had utilized her Power to stitch it up for use as a nightshirt, as Cam had suggested.

Cam and Didi slept quite well, cuddling together until they were both so deeply asleep that they weren't even conscious of rolling away from each other. As always, Didi was on the left side of the bed and Cam on the right.

Didi awakened first this time, her conscience getting the better of her. It was Sunday. She should be in church. Circumstances being what they were, however, she thought God would forgive her for being remiss. She switched on the bedside table lamp, climbed out of bed, and knelt by the bed to pray.

Cam began to stir and rolled up onto his side, reaching for her. "Dee?" he said groggily, as he came to his senses enough to realize she wasn't there. He climbed out of bed on his own side and went in search of her, only to find her on her knees next to her side of the bed. The general's bed was higher off the ground than was the one in which they'd been sleeping back on PX5 452. He hadn't spotted her head from the other side, because only the very top of it could be seen from over there. He smiled wanly and sat down at the foot of the bed, waiting.

She had a lot to be grateful for now—and a lot of favors to ask, too. If God really was behind all this—especially her getting the Power from Gor-lak—then she'd be consulting with Him every step of the way to make sure that she used it correctly and justly. Cam knew she would always use it for good, no matter what. But sending everyone to another time and another place, to find each of them their perfect niche in the multi-verse? . . . That was going to take some strategy. If God was willing to help her out with that by inspiring her—telling her _how_ to look and _what_ to look _for_—so much the better.

She soon raised her head and turned to look at Cam, holding out her hand. "Help me up, please?" she asked with a soft smile. "My legs've gone to sleep."

Cam smiled, got to his feet and took her hand, pulling her up. "Had a lot to say, huh?"

She nodded. "And lots to learn." She sighed.

"Such as?"

"I believe I should send Daniel first, although I'm not entirely sure why. I think part of it has something to do with the fact that Vala doesn't want him to know that she's planning to go to a world where she can be with another Daniel Jackson. She'd rather be with _him_, if he were willing. But his personal prejudices against her are too strong and run too deep. I have a feeling that he'd disapprove _vehemently_ if he knew her plan, because he wouldn't wish her on any other version of himself, in spite of how much she's changed since their first meeting. It's really unfair, though. All she wants—if she can't have him—is a chance to give her heart to some _other_ Daniel Jackson: one who's never met her before, who doesn't know anything about her past, and will accept her for the person she is now."

"Did she tell you all that?"

Didi shook her head. "No. I just _know_ it."

"Inspiration?—or intuition?"

"_Maybe_ it's one of those . . . or maybe it's just . . . a logical hypothesis arrived at after watching the two of them interact. All I know is, I have to send Daniel somewhere before I look for a place for Vala. And I think Daniel was right when he said his request might be the most difficult. I have a very strong feeling he wants to get Sha're back somehow."

"That would probably entail some time travel—and some inter-universal travel as well."

Didi nodded. "I know. I expect nearly every one (if not all) of the Sha'res that have existed in the multi-verse were killed at some point."

"I guess that's possible. Even if you found a way to _save_ one, there'd still be complications."

"How so?"

"Some years after Sha're was killed, her brother, Skaara, had his symbiote removed by the Tok'ra. He was returned to Abydos. Sometime later, Anubis went on the warpath and completely obliterated the planet. Jackson was ascended back then, but the other ascended beings didn't let him do anything to stop Anubis. Colonel O'Neill and the rest of SG-1 went to Abydos to have a look after they heard about the attack and were surprised to find it intact. But Skaara told Colonel O'Neill it _had_ been destroyed. Oma Desala had ascended the entire population but had permitted them to tarry temporarily so that Skaara and Colonel O'Neill could say their goodbyes. After SG-1 left the planet, it disappeared."

"So, I'll have to find a universe where Abydos still exists."

"Your best bet would be to find a universe where Oma Desala was kept in check by the rest of the ascended beings, so that she didn't ascend either Daniel or Anubis."

"She ascended Anubis?"

"Yeah, worst mistake she ever made. She realized it too late, and the other ascended beings tried to reverse it, but they couldn't send him back all the way to his mortal form. So he was stuck halfway between life and ascension. It made him powerful and nasty. Later on he kept changing bodies, and it wasn't pretty what happened to the hosts."

"So, if Anubis hadn't been halfway ascended, he wouldn't've destroyed Abydos?"

"Probably not. He was so powerful while half-ascended that most of the other system lords allied with him to save their own skins. He'd been rejected by them eons before and they all despised him. If he'd still been mortal, they'd've wiped him out the moment he showed his face."

"And Daniel?"

"If Jackson wasn't ascended, he'd be dead and the clone could take his place . . . but he probably wouldn't want to—not on SG-1, anyway. If Jackson wants to be with Sha're, he won't be going back to the SGC. He could take the other Jackson's place in that _universe_, though, and—if it's what he wants—live happily ever after with Sha're on an Abydos that was never destroyed by a never-ascended Anubis."

"My head is spinning! I understand now why Daniel said his request would be difficult."

A knock sounded on the door. "Hey, guys," called out Vala, "we're a little bit hungry out here, and since there's no food in the kitchen waiting to be cooked, we're kind of in need of Didi's services."

"I wonder . . . ." said Didi. She closed her eyes and said, "**Pile any money that was lost here in the SGC at Vala's feet in the corridor and freshen all of the foodstuffs in the vending machines**."

"Omigosh!" Vala exclaimed. "Where'd this come from?"

"People's pockets, no doubt," said Cam loudly. "It's money that was lost here in the SGC over the years, and it's Didi's gift to you guys. She freshened the food in the vending machines, too, so go get yourself something to eat—and _don't hoard the money_!"

Didi smiled. "_You_ don't fully trust her, either."

"It's hard to break the habits of a lifetime, and even though she's made a lot of progress, she still tends to be a bit greedy from time to time."

"I guess I'd better get dressed and see what I can scrounge up for breakfast," said Didi.

"I'll join you," Cam said, going the few feet to the nightstand on Didi's side of the bed and picking up the Milky Way from where she'd left it, after having made it visible the night before. He added, "You know how I love to watch you work."

"And you like to keep me from overtaxing myself."

"That too," Cam replied, handing her what was left of the candy bar.

"I'll try to keep it simple," she said with a wan smile.

"Yes, please do. 'Cause it's gonna take a _lot_ of energy to get supplies in."

"I know," she sighed. "Let's get dressed and head to the cafeteria/kitchen area. You can be my watchdog."

"So, I've gone from being a lapdog to a watchdog, huh? Does that mean you're not gonna pat my head and scratch my belly anymore?"

Didi giggled. "No, it doesn't. You're not a lapdog and you never were. You're a watchdog who likes to be _treated_ like a lapdog once in a while."

"There ya go." He winked at her. "I'll shave while you're dressing."

By the time Cam and Didi arrived at the cafeteria, everyone was seated at a table in the center of the room, talking, eating semi-nutritious foods from the vending machines and drinking coffee. A sugar dispenser and a container of non-dairy creamer had been placed on the table for those who desired either or both.

The entire group—including Cam and Didi—was wearing olive drab slacks and plain black shirts of various types. Even some belts, socks and footwear had been located, and those who had managed to find some that fit were wearing them.

The tables in the cafeteria were designed to seat four. Once upon a time they had been covered with tablecloths and had had flower vases in the center of them. Apparently, when the SGC had been decommissioned, the vases and tablecloths had been removed and placed in storage. The chairs were positioned upside-down atop the tables—except for those currently being used by the other clones, of course.

"Anybody hungry for some _real_ food?" Cam asked as he and Didi entered the cafeteria.

"Yes," Daniel replied. "Do we actually get some?"

"Give my wife a break, Jackson," Cam said, as he removed the chairs from the table to the left of the one at which the rest of the group was seated, after which he carefully positioned the new table so that it was flush against the first one. He continued, "You have no idea how rough all this stuff is on her; she gets exhausted." He and his wife then grabbed two chairs each and set them into place at the new table. "Didi's not a Chak-tuk," Cam added as he went to pour himself a cup of coffee, "so it's possible her brain doesn't produce quite enough of the necessary enzyme—which could be what keeps her from being able to do as much as Gor-lak could do in as short a time." Bringing his cup of coffee with him, he sat down at the new table to the left of Teal'c, who was eating an apple.

Didi stood at the far end of the new table, which was completely bare. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Within seconds, six plates of food and six glasses of orange juice appeared in front of her.

"Dee, what did you just do?" Cam asked her.

She slid onto the chair to her right—next to Cam—and took a bite of her candy bar. "That was easy," she said. Then she looked at her husband. "It's almost ten o'clock here, which means it's going on eight o'clock back on Planet Max. Breakfast was about to be delivered to our rooms. I just asked for it to be sent here to us, fresh off the cart."

"How do we know which plates were intended for whom?" Daniel asked

"Let's just work through this on our own, all right, Jackson?" Cam scolded him.

"If there's nothing here you like, I can transmute what's on any given plate into something you _do_ like," Didi stated. "Or, if you see something you like but it's not quite the way you like it, I can make it better: change the way the eggs were cooked, make the hash browns less greasy . . . whatever. Just grab a plate and a glass of orange juice and tell me if you want me to fix anything."

"I'll take the ham and eggs," said Daniel, picking up the indicated plate, setting it down at his place on the table and then going for a pile of napkins.

"I feel like scrambled today," said Sam.

"I'll take the steak and eggs," said Cam.

"Ooh! I want the funnel cake!" said Vala excitedly.

"I shall eat whatever Mrs. Mitchell does not choose," said Teal'c. "I am not particular."

"I'll take the eggs and bacon," said Didi, giving Teal'c a soft, appreciative smile.

"Then I shall have the hotcakes, sausages and biscuits," said Teal'c.

Didi picked up her plate and queried, "Now, does anyone want me to _fix_ their food?"

"These eggs are over hard and broken," said Daniel. "I prefer mine over easy."

"I'll trade you, then," said Didi. "I prefer mine thoroughly cooked and these are over easy."

"Maybe it would be easier if we just trade plates and then exchange the ham and bacon. It'd be a lot less messy than trying to swap out the eggs," Daniel said.

"Good idea." They did as Daniel suggested, after which Didi silently commanded that her eggs be more thoroughly cooked, since the yolks were still a bit mushy.

"I'd like my funnel cake softened a bit," said Vala. "I don't really like it crunchy." Didi obliged.

"Mine's fine, but it could use a bit of reheating," said Sam.

"That's what we have a microwave for," said Cam.

"Oh, yeah!" Sam said, having a "DUH!" moment. She sheepishly got up and took her plate to the microwave for reheating.

"Is your food all right, Cam?" Didi asked.

"Mine's fine, hun. Couldn't be better."

"Are you sure you're not just trying to keep me from overtaxing myself again?" She looked at him narrowly.

"Hey, even when I'm served a breakfast that isn't exactly the way I ordered it, I still eat it. If my willingness to do that keeps you from being overtaxed, so much the better."

"I love you," Didi said, reaching up and running her fingers through the hair behind Cam's ear.

"Woof."

"You two are just plain weird," commented Vala.

"Inside joke, no doubt," Daniel surmised.

"You could say that," Cam replied with a cryptic smile on his face and a wink to his wife.

Changing the subject, he said, "If any of you don't want your orange juice, pour it into a pitcher and put it in the fridge. Didi drinks her o.j. faithfully every morning. I'm sure she'd be glad to have it."

Sam, after having returned to the table with her warmed up food and some salt and pepper shakers, went to the pantry and found a two-quart pitcher. Bringing it to the table, she poured her orange juice into it. Everyone but Didi and Teal'c followed suit.

"I propose a toast," said Daniel, lifting his coffee mug. "To Didi—the . . . _procurer_ of our feast."

"Here, here!" the others echoed. "To Didi!"

Didi blushed. "Thanks. It's nice to be appreciated."

"I told you guys she was special—and I knew it even _before_ she got the Power."

"Yeah, she pretty much has to be," said Daniel. "If you think about how arrogant the Chak-tuk elders are, having the Power that they have . . . Didi is still the same person she was when she first woke up in our room five days ago. It hasn't changed her basic nature. Having almost absolute Power has _not_ corrupted her absolutely. You've got to admire her for that."

"_I_ certainly do," said Cam.

"Yes, that's rather obvious," commented Vala.

"So, Jackson, Sam . . . Are you guys ready to get on the computer and find out what happened to this place?"

"Soon as we're through eating, I expect," said Daniel.

"I think we ought to give Didi the clothes we wore yesterday first, so that she can send them back to our originals," said Sam.

"Right," said Daniel. "I forgot about that."

Vala sighed. "I hate to send mine back, but I know how upset the other me will be if her clothes are missing. First she'll get confused, then she'll get angry, and then she'll get absolutely _paranoid_, and then . . . Anyway, yes, we need to get those things sent back—definitely."

"Okay, then," said Cam, "after breakfast—and after clean-up detail, since there's no kitchen staff to do it—we'll all meet in the conference room with the things we need to send back home, so that Didi can take care of that little chore. Then Jackson and Carter can check the base's computer records."

"Well, while you two are busy checking boring old historical records," said Vala, smiling impishly, "Mrs. Mitchell and I will raid a Victoria's Secret warehouse for flawed bras and panties."

"I'll get everything I can," said Didi. "Hopefully I can procure a few things that'll fit each of us. If I do, we can send the stuff we're wearing now back to our originals tomorrow."

Sam nodded. "That'd be great."

"Why don't we all wait 'til tomorrow to have Didi send our stuff home?" Daniel queried. "She's already done quite a bit today as it is; she still has two more meals to cater, and Vala wants underwear."

"Well, you've already got yours—and plenty of it," Vala protested.

"Kids," said Cam, "let's not get into an argument. We'll let Didi decide."

"Cleansing and returning clothes to our originals won't take that much Power or that much of my own personal energy," said Didi, "though I'm grateful for your concern. We'll go ahead and meet in the conference room after clean-up, as Cam said, and I'll send everything home."

"Since Didi intends to procure clean underwear for herself and the other ladies while Jackson and Carter are checking the computer records," said Cam, "I'll keep an eye on her and make sure she _doesn't overdo it_." He looked at Didi sternly.

"Is everyone through eating?" she asked, anxious to change the subject.

"Just about," "Almost," "I will be soon," came their replies. Didi nodded and waited. Then, as each person finished eating, she sent his or her plate and drinking glass back to the kitchen of the restaurant from which the Chak-tuk had gotten it.

When _everyone_ had finished eating, Cam rose to his feet with his coffee mug and said, "Time for clean-up detail, gang." Then, addressing Didi, he said, "In the meantime, hun, why don't you take a bite or two of your Milky Way before you go raiding the Victoria's Secret warehouse?"

Didi nodded, removed the candy bar from her pocket and took a bite. "I almost forgot I had it. Thanks for reminding me." She then snapped her fingers and said, "I just thought of something."

"What, Dee?"

"Would you guys like to see what happened when Gor-lak found us missing this morning?"

The general consensus was a definite "yes."

"Let's finish up in here quickly, then, and head to the conference room," said Sam. "We can sit around the table while Didi shows us what's been happening back on PX5 452."

"That sounds good to me," said Daniel. "I hope Gor-lak's . . . completely at sea." He had a smug smile on his face.

"Hun, why don't you head back to the room for a few and get some rest—eat some more of the Milky Way if you need to. I'll come get you when we're done and take you to the conference room."

Didi nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Cam. Thanks, guys." She got up and left the table, heading back to the general's quarters.

"Do you even realize how valuable that woman is, Mitchell?" Daniel asked, as he gathered up the coffee cups and headed for the sink.

"I realize it a heck of a lot better than you do, Jackson. I'm married to her. We've been alone together for almost the entirety of five days. She was valuable to _me_ before Gor-lak gave her the Power, and she'll continue to be valuable to me even after she relinquishes it."

"She plans to relinquish her Power?" Sam asked. "Why?"

"Because it scares her. It's a big responsibility. She's doing the best she can with it, but sometimes we get a lot more demanding than we have a right to. In a lot of ways, she's still just a regular girl, with ordinary dreams and desires. Half the time she doesn't even think she deserves _me_, never mind the Power she's got. Fact is, she deserves a lot _better_ than me. How'd I get so lucky, Jackson?" Cam shook his head. "I don't know. I just happened to be the right clone in the right place at the right time. I fell in love with her, she fell in love with me, and . . . abracadabra! Our lives changed over night. The Power is a means to an end as far as Didi is concerned, nothing more.

"Once we're officially married by a family-sanctioned minister in the great state of Kansas, she'll undo the Binding Gor-lak put on us and then relinquish the Power; that's her plan, anyway. She wants to go back to being an ordinary girl and let me—her big, strong, handsome husband—take care of her. Her words, not mine." The words weren't precisely what Didi had said, but Cam couldn't remember exactly what words she _had_ used. He did know that _handsome_ was in there somewhere, though.

"How soon do you think she'll be up to trying to find a way to get me back together with Sha're?" Daniel asked.

"She's been giving it a lot of thought. She started working on it even before we left Planet Max."

"I've been meaning to ask you: Why do you always refer to PX5 452 as 'Planet Max'?"

"Because I'm a fan of _Dark Angel_."

"_Dark Angel _. . .that sci-fi series with Jessica Alba? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Jessica Alba played a genetically engineered and enhanced soldier. There were various types of them, all with bar codes on the backs of their necks. Jessica's character was of a type designated as X5 and her production number was . . . 452. She and the other X5s gave themselves _names_; hers was 'Max.' So, we have 'P' for 'planet' and X5 452 designating 'Max.' Thus was born 'Planet Max.' It's fun, and it trips more easily off the tongue than PX5 452."

"All done," said Sam, draping the dishcloth she'd been using to scrub the coffee mugs across the center of the double sink.

"Me, too," said Vala, who had been washing the spoons.

"Just let me finish drying the last two mugs," said Cam, "while Jackson finishes with the spoons. Then we can go to the conference room. Teal'c, buddy, are you about through over there?" he called out.

"Indeed," said the Jaffa, heading for the sink with the washcloth he had used on the tables.

"Let's make tracks, then," said Cam. "You guys go get the clothes you need to have sent back to your originals and head to the conference room while I fetch my wife."


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18: RETRIBUTION

When everyone was gathered in the conference room and their clothes were piled on the table, Didi closed her eyes and concentrated. Every item was cleaned, pressed and returned to its respective owner's drawers or closets within a matter of seconds.

Once the table was bare and Didi's eyes opened, everyone took a seat around the table. Didi then closed her eyes and concentrated once again. A holographic projection appeared. Didi ate the last bite of her Milky Way as she watched the proceedings.

Gor-lak was heading to the quarters of SG-1 first this time, undoubtedly to check on his star performers (Sam and Daniel), to see if they were ready for their battle in the arena that afternoon. The servant with the vacant breakfast cart was standing in the corridor, looking mystified.

Gor-lak stared at the empty cart and questioned the servant, who shrugged and seemed to be explaining to the elder that the food had simply vanished.

"Wow!" said Daniel. "I guess they do speak after all."

Opening the door with a sense of alarm, Gor-lak stepped inside the room and found . . . nothing. He searched the bathroom and the dresser drawers. He looked beneath the cots. Everything was gone. He cursed in the Chak-tuk language, which only Daniel was able to understand. Dr. Jackson looked disturbed in a bemused sort of way.

"Whatever he said, it must've been pretty bad," said Cam.

"Oh, it was," Daniel affirmed. "He called us something so vile, even the most hardened criminal on Earth wouldn't use the term—particularly since it would be physiologically impossible for a human being to accomplish."

After checking Cam and Didi's room and finding it equally bare, Gor-lak's wrath appeared truly boundless.

"He's telling the guards to search the entire citadel and find us," explained Daniel.

"He has no idea we've left the planet. He can't even conceive of such a thing," said Didi.

"He's threatening to tear limb from limb whoever was responsible for our getting away," Daniel informed the group.

"Technically," said Cam, "that would be him, since he inadvertently gave Didi the Power."

"A shame _he_ doesn't know that," said Daniel facetiously.

"It could take a while before we reach the end result of all this. . . ." Sam said.

"I could ask to see what's going to happen later on, after the search is given up. . . ." Didi suggested.

"Sounds good to me," said Vala anxiously.

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "I am most interested to see what Gor-lak and the other Chak-tuk will do. I am concerned that they might be able to use their vast Power to track us here."

"I hadn't even thought of that," said Didi with a furrowed brow.

"I don't think that's gonna happen," said Cam. "As we discussed before, Dee, the Chak-tuk don't have much in the way of imagination. They're having a hard enough time just trying to grasp the fact that we escaped _at all_; the concept of our actually being able to teleport to an alternate universe is _way_ beyond anything _they_ could imagine."

Didi nodded. "You're probably right. Whew! That's a relief." Having said that, she closed her eyes and requested to see the not-too-distant future on Planet Max.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, but the sight that met their eyes was frightening. Both the floor and bleachers of the arena were filled with irate Chak-tuk elders and warriors. It appeared that the servant caste was entirely excluded from the proceedings. An elder—unquestionably Gor-lak—was shackled to the pole in the center of the arena.

"It seems they're blaming him for the escape of the prisoners . . . uh, _us_," said Daniel. "He was our keeper; as such, he is responsible for our actions."

"Could you pause it a sec, please, Didi?" Sam requested. Once the projection was paused, she asked, "How did they manage to capture him and shackle him to the pole? With his Power, he should've been able to fend them all off . . . shouldn't he?"

"Maybe, maybe not," replied Daniel. "Just think about it for a minute. If you were part of a group of beings as powerful as the Chak-tuk elders, wouldn't you want to find a way to keep each other in check? It might've happened long ago, but something tells me they developed some means—a serum, perhaps—that would strip the Power from any elder who overstepped his authority or used his Power in ways that the rest of the elders disagreed with. Maybe . . . oh, I don't know . . . let's say . . . three to five elders, working in concert, could overpower and take one elder down and keep him on his knees long enough to inject him with the serum. . . . We could look and see if that's what they did; I'm only speculating. But it does make sense, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does," said Sam. "And that's probably a pretty accurate hypothesis. Otherwise, if Gor-lak still had his Power, he'd've freed himself from his bonds and escaped by now."

"No doubt," said Daniel.

"Well, whatever they did," said Cam, "it must've worked. So let's just get on with it. What are they planning to do with him?"

Didi unpaused the projection and Daniel began interpreting once more. "They've sentenced him to death," he said. "They plan to teleport in another one of those dino-things that Mitchell killed the other day. This time, however, they're going to let the creature eat its fill—of Gor-lak."

Everyone around the table was suddenly in a somber mood. As much as they had collectively detested the hideous, arrogant, green scaly monster of a creature, they had not intended that his fate should be as cruel as that. Whatever his motives might have been, he had given them many concessions and had fed them well. Even _he_ did not deserve to be eaten by a dinosaur.

Suddenly, the floor of the entire arena began to shake and a thunderous voice penetrated the atmosphere. Didi spoke up, "**Allow us to hear the English translation of what is being said**."

"_Chak-tuk, self-proclaimed Chosen Children of God, you have been judged and found wanting."_

All the Chak-tuk present in the arena fell to their knees, elders and warriors alike. The elders dropped their rods from their hands and covered their ears, attempting to shut out the voice of condemnation that came from above. The warriors did not seem to be as affected by it as were the elders.

"_You have been warned time and time again by prophets among you to repent of your bloodlust and your desires for fame and vainglory. You have subsequently ignored, then derided, and finally killed all those who would speak out against your self-indulgent wickedness._

"_Now, elders of the Chak-tuk people, you have committed the greatest sin any race can commit against their Creators: you have attempted to usurp Our Power by cloning the humans who came to this world in peace._

"_Furthermore, you have added to that great sin by holding the clones captive against their will and forcing them to participate in your murderous games in this arena, merely for the pleasure of watching them struggle and suffer, ever hoping in the depths of your small, black hearts and tainted souls that they would be killed. If they had been killed, you would have used your Divinely-given Power to revive them and would have made them fight again and again until they finally became too old and worn out to fight. You would have had them bear children, whom you would also have enslaved and forced to fight in the arena._

"_This travesty is at an end. Your days of ruling this planet are at an end._

"_We have enabled the human clones to escape your clutches. When you healed the female named Didina Steadman, Gor-lak, We caused you to use too much Power, which infused and then imbued her with it. She is an intelligent and wise female of her species. She hid the fact that she had the Power from you for the safety of herself and her companions. She has teleported them all to a place of security, from whence she will send each of them, in turn, to a world where they may live out their lives as they choose._

"_These clones should not exist. They should not have been put through the unmitigated mental and emotional torture that they have experienced since discovering that they _**are**_ clones and therefore unable to return to the lives they remember so well. You created them, and We have given them the right to continue to live. Didina Steadman-Mitchell has become a _**tool**_ in _**Our**_ hands, rather than a _**pawn**_ in _**yours**_._

"_It is good that you have kept the servant caste from this gathering, for their hands are unstained by the blood of your many victims, heretical elders and warriors. Any of your mates and children who are innocent in mind, heart and soul will also be spared. Those who are as arrogant and puffed up in pride as yourselves will perish with you this day, albeit in a different fashion from the fate that awaits you here._

"_From this time forth, no world anywhere in the multi-verse that is inhabited by the races of the Chak-tuk shall be permitted to develop cloning technology; all who already have developed it shall be struck down before they are able to successfully clone humans, as you have done. Those who have not yet developed it will lose their Power and be chastened until they repent of the evil which they have already committed in continuing these bloody spectacles which you so erroneously refer to as 'sport.'_

"'_Chak-tuk' shall no longer be the designation of your race, for you are no longer worthy of the title 'Chosen Children of God.' Those who remain will be called 'Chak-sho': 'the _**servants**_ of God,' for only those who are humble and contrite will survive this day's work. Bow before your Creators, elders and warriors, and meet your fate."_

The ground began to shake beneath them again, but with greater intensity. The mats that covered the floor of the arena were ripped apart, the floor itself divided asunder. Hundreds of Chak-tuk, warriors and elders alike, fell to their deaths in the gaping chasm. Soon, the ceiling of the arena began to crack and fall in large pieces: some to the floor, smashing those who had not tumbled into the chasm; some into the bleachers, where they crushed the warriors who cowered on their knees between the benches.

"**End it**!" Didi cried, jumping up from the table and sobbing uncontrollably. "It's all my fault!" she declared. "It's all my fault!" She then ran from the room.

"Didi!" Cam called out as he went after her.

Sam and Vala were in tears. Daniel and Teal'c were dry-eyed, but still moved by what they had just witnessed.

"I don't know how Didi can think that it's all her fault," said Sam. "The gods of the Chak-tuk—who or whatever they are—used her. They allowed her to be imbued with the Power in order to get us off the planet—probably so that they could destroy the elders and the warriors without harming us."

"Very probably," said Daniel. "They consider us innocent victims in all of this. Apparently, they feel that the elders and warriors have become corrupted in their practices, abusing their Power and their physical prowess for nothing but sport and entertainment. I have to agree: their society has become decadent in that regard. If they were too far gone in their wickedness to listen to their prophets—even killing them, as the ancient Israelites often did—then one sin is heaped upon another and their fate is sealed."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I've had enough of this maudlin conversation," stated Vala, wiping the tears from her eyes and face. "I'm going to take some money and go get some junk food from the vending machines and pig out until Didi's ready to send for some underwear."

"I guess it's about time you and I got on the computer, Sam," said Daniel. "That is, if you're still interested in finding out what occurred here."

"It's better than sitting around being depressed about what we just saw happen to the Chak-tuk."

"I shall go to the gymnasium," said Teal'c. "I have not had the opportunity to exercise for many days."

"So, we'll see each other over lunch, then, I guess," said Daniel.

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement; Vala and Sam made a verbal agreement. They then went their separate ways, each contemplating their own mortality and re-evaluating their beliefs.

It didn't take Cam long to catch up to his wife: she didn't know the complex all that well yet. He figured she'd head back to the general's quarters—their sanctuary—and he was right. "Didi!" he kept calling out to her as he drew nearer.

He reached her just as she got to the door of their room and grabbed her shoulders. "I don't know why you think anything that happened to the Chak-tuk is your fault," he said, gazing into her eyes with love and concern. "They were judged by their own gods, whoever or whatever they are. If they truly are omniscient—as gods are _supposed_ to be—then they've been watching them forever and they knew what was going on.

"They chose you, Dee—to be _our_ savior—to get us off that damnable world. You heard what the voice said. They wanted you to have the Power so that you could get us away from there and to find new lives for us. You heard what the Chak-tuk would've done to us and to our children if we'd stayed. Stop blaming yourself. _You were chosen because you are wise and intelligent_—and in my estimation, _good._ Never forget that, Didi . . . and never forget how much I love you."

She reached out for him and he gathered her into his arms. Tears soaked his shirt as she sobbed. He held her tight and kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"It was just so . . . _awful_ to watch," she said.

"I know. They may've deserved it, but that didn't make it any easier to see. Kind of makes you wonder why Lot's wife turned around and watched Sodom and Gomorrah destroyed, though, doesn't it?"

Didi nodded. "Uh-huh. But at least the servants and the innocents survived."

"Which is more than can be said of those two biblical cities," Cam commented.

"Abraham dickered with the Lord to spare them if even as few as _five_ righteous people could be found," said Didi. "Only Lot and his family were spared and they were told to leave."

"Yeah, I know. I'm glad the servants survived. I kinda got attached to the little guy who brought us our meals every day."

"Me, too. But, you know, as much as I hated what Gor-lak had planned for us—and even though I knew everything he did was to placate us and help us look more presentable (which is, ultimately, all he really cared about)—he did marry us, Cam. He performed the Rite of Binding on us. If he hadn't done that, we wouldn't be together now." She looked up at her husband. "I can't help feeling sorry that he had to die like that."

"I know, I feel the same way. But what's done is done _and it's not your fault._ You do know that, don't you? You're just upset about what happened to Gor-lak. But nothing you could've done would've saved him, Dee. His Creators knew his heart. He presented a semi-pleasant demeanor to keep us mollified, but his heart was as black as coal. They _all_ were—the hearts of _all_ of the Chak-tuk who were destroyed. You've gotta know that."

She nodded again. "I do," she said, sighing. "And you're right: I was just upset about Gor-lak. I know it wasn't my fault. I just hated to see it happen, no matter what he was like inside. We owe him, Cam. And now we'll never be able to repay him for giving us the gift of . . . each other."

"We don't owe him a thing, Dee. He may've given us each other by performing the Rite of Binding, but . . . you _know_ why he did that _and_ why he healed you: he knew that you're an upright and moral woman, and he wanted us to have children—future generations to fight in the arena. And that's not something we would've been willing to go along with."

"Of course you're right. And we did give him a sincere 'thank you.' I guess that was the best we could do under the circumstances."

"And it probably didn't mean all that much to him. He was an arrogant . . . jerk. He had his own reasons for doing what he did. His motives were anything but noble.

"Now, are you ready to deal with Vala?"

"Yes," Didi said. "I'm ready for Vala."

"Okay, then. I'll get on the intercom and see if I can track her down."


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19: PROCUREMENT

After hearing Cam's call, Vala answered and told him she was in the cafeteria.

"Probably stuffing her face with junk food," commented Cam, as he and Didi made their way there. "She does that when she's upset."

"I guess we're not the only ones who didn't like seeing what happened."

"They all knew Gor-lak, too—even though they didn't have as much to thank him for as we did. It's still hard to see someone you know get killed that way . . . unless you really, truly detest them."

"You wanted to kill him yourself, as I recall," Didi reminded him.

"Yes, I did. But that was before he performed the Rite of Binding on us." Cam sighed. "Despite what I said back at the room, I'm as grateful for that as you are. I knew that, you being you, I'd probably have ended up sleeping on the floor every night 'til we were actually married. Gor-lak literally gave you to me in more ways than one. After the Binding, he would've had to've done a lot worse than he'd done up to that point to cause me to want to kill him as much as I did before." They had reached the cafeteria. "Vala," Cam called out as they approached her, "my wife is ready to go to work."

"Super! Just let me finish this ice cream sandwich."

"I can start sending for stuff right now," said Didi. "I just figured you wanted first dibs."

"While you ladies are busy getting your mitts on unmentionables, I'm going to go to the gym and spar with Teal'c for a bit—assuming that's where he is," said Cam.

Vala nodded. "He is."

"Figures." He gathered Didi into his arms and kissed her fervently. "Love you, Dee."

"I love you, too," Didi replied, patting his chest. "I thought you were going to stay and keep an eye on me to make sure I didn't overtax myself."

"I had planned to, but . . . the thought of being surrounded by a pile of ladies' underwear is a bit disconcerting. I guess I'm just going to have to trust you to know your own limitations."

"That goes for you, too. Be careful. Teal'c's a lot bigger and tougher than you are."

"Yeah, well, if he beats me up too badly, you can always heal me. . . ."

Didi shook her head. "That's no excuse to get reckless. I'll see you later, love."

"Okay," said Vala after Cam had gone. "Now you can tell me: is he good in bed?"

Didi stood there with her mouth slightly ajar. "I'm not even going to dignify that question with anything resembling an answer. It's none of your business." Vala shrugged, while Didi closed her eyes and concentrated. "**Teleport to mine and Cam's table every bra and every pair of ladies' panties (in the greater Colorado Springs area) that have been written off as losses due to flaws in workmanship or damage done to them by customers. Make it so**." A moment later, the entire surface of the indicated table was covered with undergarments, two to three layers deep.

"Ooh!" exclaimed Vala. "Black ones! My favorites!" She dug through the pile and grabbed everything black she could find, checking the size tags. Once her arms were full, she said, "These're all supposed to be my size, but I'm sure you know as well as I do that sizes can vary somewhat from one brand to another. So, I'm going to take them all to my room and try them on. I'll keep some of the ones that fit best—and _feel_ best—and bring the others back when I'm done. Is that all right?"

"Of course. And after you decide which ones you're going to keep, I'll make whatever repairs are necessary. Just bring them to me."

"Will do!" Vala said enthusiastically.

Didi sighed as Vala left and stared at the pile in front of her. She then looked at the size tags of everything that was white, beige or any shade of blue and separated out the ones in her size. When she'd gone through the entire stack, she gathered up her personal pile and took them to her quarters, just as Vala had done with hers.

After trying on at least one of every kind, Didi had a collection of nine pairs of panties and nine bras: three each of white, beige and blue—more than her original had. She probably could have managed with less, but since she had no way of knowing how long it might be before she and Cam would find a home of their own, she wanted them to last.

She teleported the remainder of the pile—the ones that she had rejected—back to the table in the cafeteria, after which she set about repairing those she had chosen to keep. Some had been badly stitched; some had been ripped or torn in some way; others were stained or spotted. Whatever the problem, Didi was able to fix it.

By the time she had finished repairing her own and had put them in a dresser drawer, Vala appeared with her arms full of the items _she_ wanted to have repaired. "I already took the ones I don't want back to the cafeteria," she told Didi, as she laid her pile on the general's bed. Didi nodded and went to work: similar problems; similar repairs. The task was completed in only a few minutes, after which Vala scurried back to her room with her treasures.

Shortly after Vala left, Didi's stomach rumbled. It didn't take her long to realize that, on top of being hungry, her energy was depleted. With all that she had done over the past two days, her Milky Way had been completely consumed. It was time to replace it. She headed toward the vending machines, but she didn't quite make it, passing out in the corridor not more than fifteen feet from her destination. When she came to, she found she was lying on the bed in the general's quarters, with Cam bending over her and pushing a small piece of Milky Way into her mouth.

"I had to track down Vala and get some money from her," he said as he helped Didi to sit up. "I can't just make the machine spit out what I want the way you can. Here." He handed her the candy bar so that she could eat as much as she needed. "It's a good thing I decided to come back and check on you. That's quite a pile you amassed there in the cafeteria. Vala said she was pleased with her stash. I assume you've put your share away in one of the dresser drawers. . . ."

"Mm-hm," Didi responded while chewing.

"Can I take a peek?"

Didi shrugged. "Go ahead. It's just underwear."

"White, beige and blue. You're not into black?"

"Vala took nothing but black, and I have a notion Sam may want a few, too—if she doesn't wear the same size as Vala. I decided to be more conservative."

"There ain't nothin' wrong with bein' conservative. I wouldn't mind seeing you in something black and frilly, though, from time to time." He winked at her.

Didi smiled. "Give me some time to recuperate, and I'll see if I can scrounge up a black teddy from somewhere."

"Oh, yeah! That's what _I'm_ talking about! You go wearing a lacy black teddy, and your watchdog's gonna turn into a howling wolf!"

"I can hardly wait," Didi replied facetiously.

"Okay, okay. I'll try to keep my hormones under some sort of control. Maybe . . . maybe you could wear it on our anniversary and . . . my birthday and . . . Christmas and . . . Valentine's Day."

"Well, at least we won't have to worry about _my_ birthday, since we were _married_ on my birthday. It kills two birds with one stone."

"Just keep in mind that we're going to have a separate wedding anniversary once we get married in Kansas. Then we'll just celebrate your _birthday _on your birthday."

"That's true. I hadn't thought about that."

"Unless you wanna wait an entire year to get married on your birthday again . . . ."

"No chance! We're already married, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise for _an entire year_."

"A few months at the outside, then?"

"No more than three or four if we can help it. It depends, of course, on the circumstances that we find ourselves in on whatever Earth we go to."

"That's true. So, are you feeling better?"

"Well enough to send for a teddy? Yeah."

"Forget that for now. We need to think about lunch. Would you rather procure pre-made meals again?—or bring in food from grocery store shelves? If you're going to bring in pre-made meals, we can wait until we're all seated at the tables again. If you wanna get damaged cans or boxes, badly bruised or overripe fruits or vegetables or anything that's expired, you can start on it now and get a little at a time."

Didi bit her lip. "I don't want to bring in pre-made meals again because it requires _taking_ them from someone: all the food Gor-lak procured for us came from restaurants, or from somebody's cupboard or refrigerator. Teleporting in damaged cans or boxes would be less problematical to me from an ethical viewpoint. And even if the food inside of them is damaged, I can fix it.

"If any of the cans are so dented that they can't be opened with a can opener, I'll straighten them out—one can at a time—as we use them. I won't try to do them all at once."

"Do grocery stores throw out things like that?"

"I don't know. I think they just mark them down way low to get rid of them as soon as possible."

"So, we'd be stealing them if we took them."

"Maybe. I'm not sure what they do with the stuff that never sells."

"Could you maybe use that as one of the parameters?—to bring us stuff that will never sell because it's too old or too damaged?"

Didi shrugged. "I suppose I could. Although how the Power would know what will sell and what won't when it didn't know specifically how you like your coffee . . . I don't know."

"Well, the Power does have the ability to prognosticate," said Cam. "We've seen it."

"True. . . ."

"Wouldn't hurt to try it, then, would it?"

"No," Didi said, shaking her head. "It never hurts to _try_."

"To the cafeteria, then!"

When they reached their destination, Cam shook his head at the pile of underwear that was still sitting there. "I hope Carter and Jackson get done with their search of the computer files soon so Sam can come and pick herself out a few things and we can get rid of the rest of it."

"No sooner said than done," said Sam, entering the cafeteria at that precise moment. "Wow! That's a big pile! You and Vala already picked yours out?" she asked Didi.

"Yep. Vala took nothing but black. I took white, beige and blue. Everything that's left is yours to pick from . . . if you can find some that fit. Try on whatever you like that's in your size, just to make sure; then bring me the ones you're keeping and I'll fix them."

"Okay." Sam nodded. "So . . . what're you two doing in here?"

"Didi's going to try to procure us some groceries—damaged goods," Cam informed her.

"Ah. Good luck."

"Thanks," said Didi. After Sam had left, she looked up at Cam and said, "I really hate to do this. It _is_ Sunday, and I hate being a Sabbath-breaker."

"I understand that, Dee, but we need food. Anyway, you'll have the rest of your life to make up for today's infractions. I have a _lifetime's_ worth of Sabbath-breaking to atone for."

Didi smiled wanly. "Do you really want to, Cam?"

"Yes, I do—if only because I want to spend my Sundays with you. Anyway, now that I know God really exists and is aware of me—and because He's given us this opportunity to be together—I feel like I owe it to Him, you know?"

"Yes, love, I do, and I'm proud of you for feeling that way. But now. . . it's time we got busy."

The couple went into the pantry. There were still several cans of coffee in there, which wasn't surprising. Large airtight containers of flour, sugar and oatmeal—and some unopened packages of non-dairy creamer—were also present. Didi freshened any that had gone past their expiration dates. She then took a bite of the candy bar Cam had acquired for her.

Over the course of half an hour, Didi managed to procure: dented cans of fruits, vegetables, pasta sauces and various types of fish and chopped meats; ready-to-eat cereals and other boxed items that had been sliced open at the top by careless stock boys with box cutters; liquid detergents and other household cleaning products that had leaks of any kind or nozzles that didn't work correctly; and cartons of milk and juices and plastic one- and two-liter bottles of soda pop that had small leaks, all of which Didi was able to repair.

She also picked up baked goods that had become dry, stale or moldy; broken or cracked jars and bottles of pickles, condiments and preserves; frozen and refrigerated foods (including meats) that had expired or spoiled when the refrigeration or freezer units lost power temporarily; and various microwaveable meals that had also expired. All of these items she freshened. (Since there was a possibility that some of the expired items would sell regardless, Didi specifically sent for those items that had already spoiled, thus saving someone from buying them, eating them, and becoming sick; or wasting their time and money buying something they would end up throwing out or returning to the store once they realized it was spoiled.)

Eggs were a bit more difficult to deal with. First, she sent for an empty egg carton—one that had held eighteen large-sized eggs—which someone in Colorado Springs had tossed in the trash that very day. She then made sure that it was thoroughly cleaned. After that, she used her Power to fill it with eighteen large-sized, broken eggs from cartons in grocery stores around town. Next, she procured a carton full of large-sized eggs that was an exact duplicate of the empty carton she had just filled. She then thoroughly cleaned the egg cartons from which the broken eggs had come and sent eggs from the new carton to replace the broken ones she had taken. After repairing the broken eggs, she placed them in the newly emptied carton and sent the original carton she had taken from the trash back to where it had come from. Cam was duly impressed.

"No one buys cartons with broken eggs in them," Didi said, "and since I can fix them, we get free eggs, and all the stores have more cartons of intact eggs to sell."

"A fair trade-off," Cam said.

Didi then added, "If we run out of eggs before everyone leaves, I'll send for some more."

Because they already had shampoo, deodorant and other "personal care" items, Didi didn't bother sending for any of those—although she did bring in a few bottles of hair conditioner that were leaking, since that wasn't something Gor-lak had bothered to procure for them. After repairing the leaks, she left them all on the table so that everyone could pick out which type or brand they wanted.

"If we want any fresh fruits or vegetables, we'll probably have to get some money from Vala and go shopping at the nearest grocery store," said Didi. "Packaged things are easy enough to deal with, but I won't take fresh produce, even if it's turning brown or sprouting eyes. That would be harder to justify."

"We could go to the nearest store, all right," said Cam. "We could buy the oldest, worst-looking stuff in the produce department, bring it back here and—"

"And I could freshen it, too," sighed Didi. "Yes, I know. That way it wouldn't go to waste and we'd have plenty of fresh food to go with the packaged goods."

"Are we done for now, then?"

Didi nodded. "We have four kinds of fresh bread and several different types of cheeses and cold cuts, as well as hot dogs and buns, mustard, ketchup, relish, mayonnaise and Miracle Whip. All of those things—along with the variety of microwaveable meals I got—should give _everyone_ choices for lunch."

She looked at her husband wanly. "Do you think you could carry me back to our room, Cam? I'm exhausted, and I can barely manage to get the Milky Way to my mouth."

Cam took the candy bar from her, broke a piece off and put it into her mouth. "I told you not to overtax yourself. You're so tired, you can't even chew it. Just let it dissolve in your mouth. And yes, I'll carry you back to our room." He put the candy bar in her hand, clamped her fingers around it, and then gathered her into his strong arms and carried her from the pantry.

"There you are!" said Sam as she approached them. "I was just coming to get Didi to fix the underwear I picked out for myself."

"I'm afraid it's gonna hafta wait, Sam," said Cam. "Didi spent the better part of half an hour procuring us food from the local grocery stores. She's wiped. Give her an hour or so to recuperate, then she can fix your undies for you. In the meantime, tell everybody there's plenty of food in the pantry and in the refrigerators and freezers. We'll have to fix our own meals, but at least we have the ingredients now."

"All right," said Sam, nodding. "I'll take my underwear back to my room. You know where it is, Cam. Bring Didi there after she gets feeling better and call me on the intercom when you want me there."

"Will do," Cam replied, as he followed Sam out of the cafeteria.

"I think I can walk now, Cam," said Didi. "The sugar kicked in. I'm feeling better, and you were standing there talking to Sam for so long . . . ."

"I'm fine," her husband replied. "I can get you back to the general's quarters, no problem."

"You're sure?"

"You're a featherweight, Dee. Believe me, I could carry you for miles if I had to."

Smiling, Didi kissed him tenderly on the cheek and said, "I love you, Colonel Mitchell."

"I love you too, Dee—more than you can possibly imagine."

After they reached the general's quarters, they lay on the bed together, holding each other close and quietly talking. Didi took the opportunity to tell her husband, "Being in your arms gives me the most wonderful feeling of comfort and security. . . . There's no place in the multi-verse I'd rather be."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Cam, "'cause there's no one else in the multi-verse I'd rather hold."

At the end of an hour, they went to Sam's quarters, Cam contacted her, and she came as soon as she could.

"I was having lunch," she said. "Thanks for the food, Didi—and all the other stuff." She opened her door and let Cam and Didi enter first. A pile of underwear of various colors lay on the bunk.

"I, uh, think I'll head to the cafeteria myself," said Cam, slightly embarrassed.

The two women smiled. "See you in a few, love," Didi said, kissing him on the cheek as he left.

"Are you sure you're up to this? You've done so much today already. . . ." Sam said, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine. Cam and I spent the last hour just lying on the bed and talking. I've had plenty of time to recuperate." She then closed her eyes and concentrated, repairing and cleaning, in turn, each and every item on the bed.

"That should do it," she said to Sam afterward.

Sam nodded and said, "Thanks. I appreciate it. I put the rest back on the table in the cafeteria. I guess you can send them all back now."

"Yeah," Didi sighed. She closed her eyes and concentrated again, commanding that every item of underwear that was sitting on the table in the cafeteria be returned from whence it came. "I'm going to the cafeteria myself now," she told Sam. "I need to have lunch, too. And I'm going to talk to Cam and the others about going shopping for a few _fresh_ items: fruits and vegetables, mostly. If Vala has enough money, we might be able to afford a few things."

"Most of it's in coins," Sam pointed out. "There are a _lot_ of them, but still . . . coins."

"I've been thinking about sending for damaged coin sleeves from nearby banks. We could package up the coins and then take them to a bank and trade them in for dollars—although we'll have to go into the past to do it, since today is Sunday and most banks aren't open on the weekend."

"Sounds like a good idea. You might need to retrieve some coins from the vending machines, though. We've used quite a few of them today."

"That shouldn't be difficult. I'll see you later, Sam."

"Bye, Didi, and thanks again."

When Didi got to the cafeteria, Cam had a sandwich waiting for her. (She was glad she'd gotten rid of the underwear.) "Bologna on white bread with mustard," Cam said proudly. "I remembered!"

"Pink lemonade, too! Thanks, Cam. You're a treasure!" She sat down next to him and kissed him on the cheek.

"You're lucky that a bottle of pink lemonade happened to be among the beverages you brought in earlier that were leaking and in need of repair. We've got some Hawaiian Punch, too, when you're in the mood."

She nodded. "I know." She then turned her attention to Vala, who was chowing down on a slice of pizza. "Vala, how much money is left from what I gave you this morning?"

"I don't know. Maybe . . . about . . . eight or nine dollars, give or take—depending on how much everyone spent of what I gave them."

Didi closed her eyes and sent for coin sleeves—from any local banks—that were flawed. A number of them appeared on the table before her. "**Repair all of the coin sleeves in front of me**," she said.

Sam walked in at that moment. "You guys are all still eating, huh? Has Daniel told you yet what we found in the computer records?"

"No," said Cam. "I was too busy getting lunch made for myself and Didi."

"We'd like to hear about it," said Didi, "but before you and Daniel tell us anything, I need to ask you a favor. Would you put everyone's coins into these sleeves while we're eating?"

"Sure, I'd be glad to."

Vala rolled her eyes and cleared out her pockets; the others followed suit, but without rolling their eyes. Didi then concentrated and sent for all the money that was in the vending machines, asking that it be put into the pile that was already on the table.

"Okay. Now we're ready to hear what you found," Didi said. "Why is the Stargate missing?"

"Because they weren't able to get it back from the Russians," said Sam. "The war with Chechnya occurred on a different timetable here than it did on our Earth, and it interfered with Russia's relationship with the U.S."

"What _I_ don't understand," Daniel said, "is why they didn't just ask the Asgard to bring them another 'gate from an abandoned world somewhere."

"Probably because the Asgard were busy fighting the replicators at the time," said Sam, "which is how the Russians ended up with the 'gate in the first place, if you recall."

"Yes, I remember it very well," said Daniel, "blowing up the _O'Neill_ in order to destroy the little buggers, which had the unfortunate side effect of dumping the 'gate into the Pacific Ocean, where a Russian sub came across it. But that was years before the war with Chechnya—even on _this_ world."

"But after the time dilation field collapsed and the human-form replicators got loose, things went from bad to worse for all of us," Sam reminded him.

"Yes—especially for you and me. That replicator doppelganger of yours . . . having your intellect but none of your compassion . . . she was utterly ruthless—and a little scary."

"Anyway, we found out why they shut down the SGC in the first place. Why they didn't start it up again is another question," said Sam.

"Probably politics," said Cam. "Kinsey tried for years to have the Stargate program shut down when he couldn't get control of it for his own ends."

"Senator and then Vice-President Kinsey?" Didi asked. "Whatever happened to him, anyway?"

Sam and Daniel told that story. Didi was stunned. "Wow! I wonder what the public would think if they knew. . . ."

"They'd probably react the same way they did on that alternate Earth where you healed the other Mitchell," her husband said.

Didi nodded. "You're probably right. Well, I'm through eating. Let me give you a hand with those coins, Sam."

After disposing of their trash and taking their dishes to the sink, everyone else volunteered to help as well. Twenty minutes later, almost every coin sleeve was full and there were a few spare coins left out.

"What do we have, then?" Cam asked, counting out the money in the sleeves. "It looks like only . . . twelve-fifty, counting this extra sleeve of pennies."

Didi nodded. "We're going to need a little bit more than that if we're going to get all the stuff we need. I had planned to keep some of the money here, for use in the vending machines. But now that we have a good supply of food in the pantry, you guys can pretty much fix yourselves whatever you want if I'm not around to get something from the machines for you."

"How much more do you think we're gonna need?" Cam queried.

"I don't know, but produce isn't cheap. . . . We'll have to pick and choose. The whole group will have to go shopping together so that we can get a consensus, depending on what's available and how much it costs. The majority rules: at least three people—half of us—have to want something before we spend money on it. I do have an idea of how to get a little more money, though. . . ."

"What's that, hun?" Cam queried.

Didi closed her eyes and concentrated. "**Bring to this table any loose money that was lost in the homes or apartments of our originals**."

"I wondered what happened to that five dollar bill," said Daniel. "It flew off my dresser one day and I never did find it."

"The ten is mine," said Sam. "I was transferring my money from one purse to another and it just slipped out of my hand and disappeared. Same story: I never found it."

"Well now, it looks like we may have enough money to go shopping with after all," said Cam. He picked up loose coins that had appeared along with the five and ten dollar bills and started putting them into sleeves.

When they had filled as many sleeves as they could, Vala was given the remaining coins to keep on behalf of the group. Afterward, the dishes were washed, dried and put away.

"Now it's time for me to teleport us to a bank two days ago," Didi said.

"Uh, Dee, do we really want to go to a bank, dressed as we are in what passes (more or less) for military garb?"

She sighed. "Okay. I guess I'll have to get us all some clothes from home, then. _But I'm returning them as soon as we're done._ Is everyone clear on that?" Nods and murmurs of "yes" all around.

Within minutes, everyone had a pair of pants and a shirt of some kind, taken from the homes of their originals—ones that they didn't like very much and seldom wore, most of which were kept at the far end of their respective closets. Didi also procured some footwear for the entire party, as no one wanted to continue wearing only boots, and that was all that was available in the storerooms of the SGC. (Because Gor-lak had created Didi's sandals by means of transmutation, she still had them and had chosen to continue wearing them; she had also kept the jewelry that the Chak-tuk elder had created by means of transmutation, although she wasn't wearing it every day.)

Each of the clones of SG-1 now had a pair of shoes—old and worn out or too big or too small—that their originals never wore but which, for various reasons, they had never taken time to get rid of. Didi mended the old, worn out ones and fixed the sizes of those that were too large or too small, so that everyone's footwear was now acceptable and comfortable.

After taking a bite of her Milky Way, Didi did one more thing: she procured wallets for the guys and purses for the ladies, all of leather and all badly made, just as the backpacks had been. The men put their wallets in the back pockets of their respective pants; the girls put everything they wanted and needed in their purses—which, for Didi, included her Milky Way.

Once each person was fully clad in his/her civilian clothes, they went back to the cafeteria, where Didi handed the coin sleeves around, divvying them up as evenly as possible. Sam and Daniel were given their respective five and ten dollar bills, as well. Teal'c then put on a hat to cover his Jaffa brand.

"Now, everyone hold hands, like we did when we teleported here last night," Didi said. Once that was done, she ordered, "**Cloak us and teleport us to the unexposed rear of a bank somewhere in Colorado Springs at nine a.m. on Friday, September 19, 2008**."

When they arrived at their destination, Didi looked around, and, finding that they were, indeed, unexposed to public view, made them visible again. "Let's go inside and swap out all the coins for bills," she said, "—except for the extra roll of pennies. I'll exchange it for two quarters or a half dollar."

The bank was busy. It took some time, therefore, for all six of them to trade their coins for bills. When they were finished, they met behind the bank. Didi re-cloaked them and teleported them to an unexposed area outside of the best grocery store in town (i.e., the one with the greatest selection of goods) and then uncloaked them again. Not having changed the time parameter, it was, she mused, still Friday.

The group got a cart and spent about half an hour in the produce department, arguing over which fruits and vegetables to buy. Once the decisions had been made, the men were sent to check out with those purchases, while the ladies went to the feminine products aisle and picked up what they could afford of their favorite types and brands of items there.

After the women had checked out, Didi teleported the group back to the SGC, requesting that they arrive at three o'clock on Sunday afternoon. After freshening all of the produce they had just purchased, she promptly collapsed on the floor, near the refrigerator. Cam got into her purse, took out the Milky Way and fed her a piece of it. He then carried her (along with her shoulder bag and personal purchases) back to their room, leaving the rest of the clones to take care of the produce.

Once Didi was able to sit up, Cam went to the bathroom to get her a glass of water.

"Thanks, love," she said with a wan smile. "I didn't realize I'd done so much on so little candy. I should've known better."

"Yeah, you should've—or at least _I_ should've been paying closer attention." He put a hand to her cheek and caressed it with his thumb. "You have no idea how much it scares me when you pass out like that. That's twice in one day, Dee. No more today. Nothing. Nada. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Cam." She sipped her water and sighed. "There was one more thing I wanted to do today, though."

"Whatever it is, it can wait."

"Not too long, it can't."

"What? We've got food, we've got clothes . . . we've got pretty much everything we need. What more could you possibly have to do?"

"I need to find some contraceptives, Cam."

Cam closed his eyes, sighed and said, "When we finally do find an Earth that we can live on together, you don't want to turn up pregnant on your parents' doorstep."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Didi said, her mouth twisted. "I spent my whole life wishing I could have children, and now that I can, I have to keep from getting pregnant until after we're_ officially_ married."

"Believe me, I understand. Even after only five days together, I know you well enough to know that you were raised to be unflinchingly moral, and I wouldn't change that about you if I could. If you turned up pregnant—your parents not knowing that you and I are already married—it would come as quite a . . . disappointment to them, I'm sure. And since we could never tell them the truth . . ."

"That's precisely the point: we can't. And you were right when you used the word 'disappointment.' Once they met you and got to know you, they wouldn't be _shocked_ that we'd been together. But they would still be disappointed in me for not being stronger."

"Little do they know."

"And they never will." She shook her head. "We're talking as though we're going to be dealing with my _real_ parents, not those of some _other_ Didina Steadman, who happens to have disappeared or died or something. But I can't even say _that_. I have no 'real' parents—just the memories of my original's."

"But if we take the places of a Cam and a Didi who died or disappeared, to _their _parents we _will _be them. We'll _have_ to be. That's the only way _we_ can have a life, and the only way _they_ can have their children back. It's a win-win situation all around—except for the having to wait to get married part."

"As long as I keep the Power 'til after we're married (so that I can undo the Binding), we can spend our nights together. The only bad thing about having to wait to get married is having to go through the charade of dating and getting to know each other. It could take a while."

"That's what I meant. But as long as we're not around our _parents_ until we're ready to announce the engagement, nobody else in our lives is gonna care—except maybe your cousin, Eddie. Would he tell your folks if he saw us sucking serious face before we got engaged?"

"I'm not sure. If he wants to keep me as an employee he won't, but I don't know how strong his sense of loyalty is to my parents."

"Then I guess we'd better not chance it. We'll keep our more intimate affairs . . . intimate."

Didi nodded. "Agreed. So . . . let's head to the infirmary and see what we can find."

"Hold on a minute," said Cam, putting a hand on her leg to keep her from standing. "Do you feel any better? Got your energy back?"

"Yes, love, I'm fine. Why?"

"It just occurred to me that you might not _need _contraceptives."

"Wha'd'ya mean? You're _not_ suggesting that we get separate quarters or something . . . ."

"No, no, nothing like that! I'd go crazy! No, what I mean is . . . Couldn't you just . . . I don't know . . . command your body not to get pregnant until after we're legally married?"

Didi's eyebrows went up. "That idea never even crossed my mind! Hm. . . ." Her brow furrowed then and she looked thoughtful. "I don't know how I'd word a command like that, but—," she paused, looked up at Cam and continued, "—there is _one_ thing I could do . . . ."

"What's that, hun?"

"Return my body to the way it was before Gor-lak repaired it—make myself barren again."

Cam sighed. "Would you be able to fix it again later?"

"Yes. With the experience I have using the Power, it'd be easy. I could do it anytime I want to."

Cam nodded. "Do it then, Dee. I just hope you're not already pregnant."

She shook her head. "I'm not. I checked. But this way we won't have to worry about it in the future." Cam nodded again and Didi closed her eyes. "**Return my reproductive system to the condition it was in before Gor-lak repaired it**." She opened her eyes. "It's done," she said.

Cam nodded. "Good! Because right now . . . I want you."

Didi smiled softly, and, with a single thought, dimmed the lights. "I'm all yours, Colonel." She wrapped her arms around his neck and the kissing began.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20: DIFFICULTIES

Later that night, long after dinner had been eaten and the cafeteria and kitchen cleaned and polished, Cam and Didi retired for the night. Cam fell asleep quickly and was softly snoring. Didi was wide awake, thinking about Daniel. He'd be wanting her help tomorrow, to find a new life for himself. And he would be expecting her to find a time and a place where he could be with Sha're. She decided to take a look now and see what was out there.

Sometime after midnight, Cam was awakened by the sound of his wife softly weeping. She felt like crying out loud, but she didn't want to wake him. _This is _**my** _burden to bear, _she told herself. _There isn't anything Cam can do or say that will fix things or make the situation any better._

"Hey, hun, what's going on?" Cam asked groggily. "What are you crying about?"

She sighed with resignation. Whether she'd wanted to or not, she had awakened her husband.

"Talk to me, Dee," he said sternly, more awake now.

"It's impossible, Cam!" she said. "I can't find a way to give Daniel what he wants. I've looked at everything pertinent to their lives, checked every scenario imaginable, and it just can't be done! Even with all the Power I have, I'm not God. I'm still just a human being, and some things are beyond me."

Cam turned on the table lamp, crawled across the bed and sat down on the edge of it, next to his wife. He placed a hand on her leg and gazed at her with love, a soft smile on his face. "I'm glad to hear there are _some_ things you can't do."

She stopped crying and let out a short laugh. "I'm sure you are. I just don't know what I'm going to tell Daniel."

"Tell him the truth. Tell him what you looked for and what you found and the reasons why it's impossible. He's a reasonable man. I'm sure he'll understand. He'll be disappointed, but . . . he'll live."

"We'll have to come up with another plan, then."

"Do you have anything specific in mind?" Cam asked.

Didi's brow furrowed and she bit her lip. "I have an idea, but . . . it would require giving Daniel the Power."

"What? You'd give it to him and not to me?"

She shook her head. "It's not like that, Cam. Just . . . listen, okay?"

Cam folded his arms: body language for "I'm not really open to this, but you're welcome to try to get through to me." If anybody could, however, it was Didi. "Okay, I'm listening," he said.

"The only chance Daniel would have of being with Sha're without any danger of Abydos eventually being destroyed by Anubis and ascended by Oma Desala—or without the two of them being found alive when SG-1 goes to visit Abydos (since, in some universes, they should _both_ be dead)—would be for Daniel to go to a universe where the Stargate was never found in Egypt when it was supposed to be, so Stargate Command was never formed.

"There would be a few problems inherent in that scenario, too, though: first of all, he'd have to go there on his own, and he'd be hard put to destroy Ra by himself _without_ the Power; the second would be explaining who he is and how he got there; the third would be protecting the village from Ra or Apophus or any other Goa'uld system lords who might stop by to gather up slaves and potential hosts."

"So that's why you want to give him the Power?—so he can protect the village from the Goa'uld? Wouldn't they wonder how he got that Power?"

"Yes, of course they would. And I've been giving that some thought, too. First off, he'd have to come walking into the village on foot, dressed in the same kind of garb his original wore when he lived on Abydos. And I think it would be best if he introduced himself as a traveler from a faraway land. They would probably assume he came from another village a long way off. So much the better. He speaks the language, so that wouldn't be a problem. To pass the time, he could do what he does best: search the ruins for runes, just as he did before, and help the Abydonians to understand them.

"He could employ the Power in numerous ways to protect the village. It wouldn't be hard to use it surreptitiously, in his mind, so that no one would know he was doing it.

"Anyway, those are just my thoughts on the subject. I don't know how Daniel will feel about it. He may think it's more trouble than it's worth."

Cam's arms were no longer folded and he had a smile on his face. "You're amazing, you know that? You took an impossible situation and made it possible. Jackson gets to protect the people he loves in such a way that they won't even know he's using an extraordinary Power to do it. Maybe you should send him in with a supply of Milky Ways, too."

"It's the sugar that replenishes lost energy. Milky Ways just happen to be what _I_ crave when I'm depleted. Daniel may very well need something else entirely. I'm sure, once I give him the Power and he gets worn out after overusing it, he'll know what he needs."

"And he can always send for whatever it is if he has to and eat it in secret."

"If he decides to put up protective shields, he'll get depleted pretty quickly. One thing about it, though: once a shield is set, I believe it's self-sustaining—just like the holographic projections are. He can set one, eat a little something, and then put up the next one. He could destroy a Goa'uld mother ship with a single thought if he wanted to—make it look like it blew up on its own."

"Wow! Wouldn't that be nice?"

"_If_ he chooses to go that route and do everything anonymously. On the other hand, he could tell the villagers he's a great Shaman, or something. But that would be up to him."

"Somehow I don't see Jackson as a poser. If you give him the Power, he'll use it discreetly, just as _you've_ done. No heroics, no showmanship . . . just a good man doing a good thing for some good people that he happens to care about."

"You're probably right," Didi agreed, nodding.

"Would the shields he put up remain after he died?"

"I don't know. I suppose it's possible."

"If not, maybe he could pass the Power on to his firstborn son—tell him about it secretly, teach him how to use it, make sure no one else knows about it. . . ."

"He'd have to make that decision for himself. Anyway, if at least one Sha're and one Abydos in the entirety of the multi-verse can be saved, why not let Daniel be the one to save them?"

"Why not, indeed." Cam kissed his wife on the temple and squeezed her. "I love you, Miracle Woman. Every day you come up with something new. Are you absolutely certain the Power hasn't increased your IQ a little?"

"I'm positive. If you knew how many headaches I've had, just trying to work through all these details between everything else I've been doing—that _we've_ been doing—you'd be following me around with a bottle of aspirin."

"Maybe I should. Or maybe you could put one in your other pants pocket: the one you _don't _put your Milky Way in."

Didi smiled. "Yes, I could." She yawned. "Anyway, since I've told _you_ my idea, I think I'll present it to Daniel in the morning—maybe after breakfast."

"Are you ready to call it a night, then?" Cam asked, also yawning.

Didi smiled. "Yeah, I think I could . . . yawn. . . get to sleep now. Thanks for helping. I feel a lot better about things."

"Glad to be of service," Cam said, climbing back across the bed to his own side. "Get in here and let me hold you for awhile."

As soon as Didi was cuddled up next to him, he turned off the table lamp, slid under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. Within minutes, she was asleep. Her soft, rhythmic breathing warmed Cam's heart.

He hated to see her hurting—for _any _reason. She was doing everything she could for the group. They wanted and expected so much from her . . . sometimes he wanted to tell them to go jump in the lake and let her alone. But Didi was a victim of her own generous nature—and what she considered to be the expectations of the Chak-tuk gods. She had been chosen by them to do this work, and she took that responsibility very seriously. On top of that, she genuinely cared about all of the clones and wanted them to be happy. Cam hoped Daniel would carefully consider her offer.

Tenderly kissing his beloved wife on the cheek, he lay down and closed his eyes. Within a matter of seconds, he, too, was fast asleep once more.

When Cam and Didi went to the cafeteria the next morning, they found Sam and Vala busily engaged in making breakfast for themselves.

"What are you in the mood for this morning, Dee?" Cam asked, as he poured himself a cup of the coffee Sam had so graciously prepared.

"I think I'll just have a bowl of cereal today," she said. "If I keep eating eggs every day, I'm going to get fat."

Cam grinned. "I'll have to take you to the gym sometime today. If you wanna have kids, you need to get into shape. It'll be easier on you if you do."

Didi nodded. "I know. And when we were still on Planet Max the other day, I was thinking that I'd better get in shape, or I won't be able to keep up with _you_."

"Keep up with me? Hey, it's not as if _you're_ gonna be going on missions through the 'gate . . . . and if you're worried about physical activities—like sports 'n' stuff—don't be. I'm not concerned with any of that. Like I said, I only want you to be strong, fit and healthy for when you're ready to have kids."

Didi nodded and smiled and said, "Okay, I'll do my best to get my body 'baby ready.'" She then headed for the pantry, grabbed a box of cereal from the shelf—along with a carton of milk and the pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator—and carried them to the dining area. She had the cereal box stuck underneath her chin and carried one of the beverage containers in each hand.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Cam cried when he saw her. He grabbed the cereal box before it fell from its precarious perch and took it to their table. "Why didn't you ask me for help, hun? In fact, you could've used your Power to levitate everything here."

"I don't know why, but I didn't even think about that. I was just going to grab the cereal and the milk, but then I remembered I hadn't had my o.j. yet, so I stuck the cereal box under my chin and grabbed the pitcher of juice, too. Using my Power to bring the whole kit and caboodle didn't even occur to me."

"You're lucky you didn't drop something. Next time—if you're not going to use your Power—at least ask for help."

"I will. I promise. Thanks."

Daniel and Teal'c wandered in by the time the other four were already seated and eating. After Daniel sat down with a cup of coffee, some toast and preserves, Didi said, "Now that you're all here, I'd like to get your permission to return the clothes we borrowed from our originals yesterday."

Everyone nodded and voiced their assent, although, as usual, Vala was a bit reticent. She did understand, however, the need to prevent her other self from "freaking out."

Once that small task was done—everything having been cleaned and restored to its original condition before being returned—she began to eat again.

"Didi," spoke up Daniel, "are you ready to start working with me yet?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am," she responded. "Late last night I began looking for a time and a place that I could send you to." She shook her head. "It was, to say the least, discouraging."

"I know," Daniel said, nodding. He sighed. "I told you it would be difficult. I've thought about it a lot over the last couple of days—ever since you said you'd try to give each of us our perfect life. The more I thought about it—what it would take—the more problems I saw: too many parameters, too many complications."

"After coming to that conclusion myself," said Didi, "I asked specifically to see any universes where Sha're is still alive. The only universes where that holds true are those in which the Stargate was never discovered in Egypt when it should've been. In every universe I viewed that had an SGC, she died."

"Since we killed Ra during our first trip through the 'gate—after which Apophus took his place and was looking for slaves and a host for his mate—that doesn't surprise me," Daniel stated.

"Under the circumstances," said Didi, "I can't help thinking that, in every universe that has an SGC, Sha're was probably _supposed_ to die; and that's not something I can mess around with. I was given the Power to help _us_ find new homes, not to raise the dead and give _them_ a second chance at life."

"It's probably just as well," said Daniel. "Your idea all along has been that each of us could take the place of another version of ourselves who died without anyone actually _witnessing_ their deaths—alone somewhere, sometime. But, in _our_ universe, when Sha're died, both the Goa'uld and the SGC were aware of it. Bringing _her_ back to life clandestinely would be impossible. It couldn't be done.

"Even if we _were_ able to find a scenario where we could save her and take her to an Abydos that wouldn't be destroyed by Anubis, she'd want me to rescue her child and her brother, Skaara, just as I'd rescued her. And if I told her that Skaara would be returned home in a few years without any help from me, she'd want to know how I came by that knowledge. If, with her childlike faith in me, she accepted my explanation—whatever lie I managed to come up with in regard to that—sooner or later SG-1 _would _turn up with Skaara and they'd see Sha're and me and wonder how in the world we're still alive when we're both supposed to be dead—or in my case, possibly ascended, or even still alive and a member of SG-1, depending on the circumstances of the target universe.

"The two of us hiding from SG-1 isn't a viable option, because Kasuf—Sha're's father—wouldn't understand if I tried to tell him the truth. Travel through time and multiple universes, cloning, raising the dead . . . would all be beyond his comprehension. I don't really want to revisit the whole mess with the Harsesis child, either. It was hard enough to deal with the first time around.

"All in all, there'd be way too many complications—not just for you, but for me, too, and I don't think I can handle that. I wanted to be with Sha're because life with her was simple. Under the circumstances, it wouldn't _be_ simple—it _couldn't_ be.

"And I agree with you, Didi: she was probably _supposed_ to die, and you can't change that. Such being the case, we're just going to have to find another time and another place for me."

"I've already come up with an alternate plan, Daniel," Didi said. "_It's_ going to be complicated, too, but it _is _doable, and you would be able to spend your life with Sha're, if that's what you still want. It might not be as simple as you'd like it to be—at least, not at first. But, depending on what you decide to do, it could get easier."

"It will mean going to one of the universes where the Stargate was never discovered, won't it?" Daniel asked. "I infer that because you said that in all the universes with an SGC, Sha're was supposed to die."

Didi nodded. "Yes, you're right. If you're interested, we'll take a look at a few of the others after breakfast—via holographic projections—and then you can pick one out."

"I still find it incredible that you can view anyplace in the multi-verse, anytime in its history. It's intriguing and very . . . enlightening," said Daniel.

Didi nodded. "Yes, it is. I've learned a lot about your originals that way—things even _you_ don't know." She had a cat-that-swallowed-the-canary look on her face.

"Such as?" Vala asked, as she took a sip of her coffee.

"It has to do with Ba'al's claim that he was really the last clone and that the _real_ Ba'al was still out there somewhere," said Cam.

"Are you saying he was telling the truth?" Daniel asked.

"Yep. I slept through most of it and only caught the ending, but it was a real humdinger."

"Would you be interested in seeing that before we look for a home for you?" Didi asked Daniel.

"Yeah, yeah, I would, actually."

"Oh, goody! A movie matinee!" cooed Vala. She was bravely trying to hide how upset she was that Didi had an alternate way for Daniel to be with Sha're. The conversation had started out so promising, with Didi and Daniel discussing the virtual impossibility of getting the pair together. Vala had hopes of her _own_ where Daniel was concerned. She chose to set them aside for the time being. Perhaps Didi's alternate plan would not appeal to Daniel and she might still stand a chance. . . .

Following these ruminations, she asked, "Do we have any popcorn?"

"I believe there might be some in there," said Didi. "I brought in so much stuff, I can't remember all of it. But I'm sure there must've been a bad package or two of popcorn that I brought in from somewhere and fixed."

"So, why don't we head to the conference room after we're all through eating and the dishes are done, and Didi can give us a show to watch," said Cam.

"Sure. It sounds intriguing," said Sam.

After everyone was seated around the conference table—Vala with a bowl of popcorn and a liter bottle of soda pop in front of her—Didi said, "After I get this projection started, I'm going to the gym and get a little exercise. Then I think I'll go back to our room for awhile. Cam can come for me when you're ready, Daniel."

Both Cam and Daniel acknowledged this statement with nods of their heads and said, "Okay."

Didi then closed her eyes and said, "**Show this group the entirety of what I viewed the other night in regard to the death of Ba'al**." She was _not_ going to repeat the request she had made the first time around and ask to see the most heroic thing _Cam_ had ever done. That might not sit too well with the rest of the clones. Asking for the group to be shown the same thing that she had viewed was a copout, but it had worked. . . .

The gymnasium was well stocked with equipment. Didi chose to walk on the treadmill. She set the speed at what she thought she could handle for at least ten minutes, and then she set the timer. She'd already made up her mind to exercise for ten minutes twice a day until she could handle twenty minutes in one session. Once she was able to do that, she'd consider raising the speed a little—maybe one mph per week. All she wanted to do was to keep her metabolic rate up and to tone her muscles, so that there was no excess fat or flab anywhere.

When her ten minutes were up, she went back to the general's quarters, took a quick shower, and put her clothes back on. She then lay down on the bed and gazed up at the ceiling, contemplating what she was about to propose to Daniel. If he chose not to accept her offer, she'd have to find yet _another_ alternative solution. She sighed. His project really was turning out to be extremely problematical. It was best to get it over and done with. The others would probably be a piece of cake by comparison.

Cam came for her when the projection was winding down. "They're almost done in there. You ready to go?" he asked from the doorway.

"Yes, I guess I am—as ready as I'm ever gonna be, anyway." She sighed and sat up. "Help me down?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Cam came to the bed, took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. "Let's go."

They held hands as they walked back to the conference room. The "movie" was just getting over.

"So, Mitchell saved the day," said Daniel.

"Actually, he saved the _world_," said Sam, "past, present and future."

"Indeed, Colonel Carter," said Teal'c, "but not without assistance from you and Daniel Jackson."

"You helped too, Teal'c, running interference the way you did with Qetesh's Jaffa," said Cam.

Vala looked glum. "I was a pain in the a—"

Cam, standing behind her, had clapped a hand over her mouth. "Ba'al changed the timeline, Vala. You were Qetesh again. It wasn't your fault." After saying this, he removed his hand.

"I know, but it doesn't make me feel any better not to have been one of the _good_ guys that time." She stood up. "I think I'll go to my room and have a good cry."

"Would you like some company?" Sam asked. "It might help to talk about it. . . ."

"Maybe later, after I get over feeling sorry for myself and can be a bit more objective about the whole thing."

Sam nodded. "I understand. Teal'c, care to join me in the gym for a while?"

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I would be most happy to accompany you to the gymnasium, Colonel Carter."

Once those three had left, Cam and Didi sat down next to Daniel, who asked, "How is it that, in some universes, the Stargate was never discovered in Egypt? I acknowledge the fact that, in all the multi-verse, it is possible that there were places where it didn't happen. I'd just like to know how and why."

"Why don't we take a look and see?" Cam suggested.

"Let's." Didi closed her eyes and said, "**Show us an Earth on which the Stargate was never discovered in Egypt and show us the reason why it wasn't**."

"Okay," said Cam when it was over. "What just happened?"

"I believe," said Daniel, "that the slaves rebelled against Ra and succeeded in driving him off. He took the Stargate with him, so it wasn't there to be discovered in the early twentieth century."

"So, any Earth that has that history has been safe all this time from the Goa'uld, the Replicators and the Ori—not to mention the dozens of other aliens that've tried to get a foothold here," said Cam.

"It would seem so," said Daniel.

"So, I'm probably just a regular old Air Force pilot. I wonder if—"

"Cam," said Didi, "if you want to go down that road—especially since it's just out of curiosity—we'll look later, okay? Right now we're on Daniel's dime."

"Yeah. Right. Sorry."

Didi then proceeded to tell Daniel her idea. Since Cam had already heard it, he put his own two cents in from time to time, all the while watching Daniel's face for signs of what his response might be.

When Didi had finished her explanation and gave Daniel her various ideas of ways in which he could use the Power to protect the people of Abydos, his brow was deeply furrowed. Didi had known all along that the decision would be difficult for him to make. He had to weigh his love for Sha're and her people against his desire to keep his life simple and unfettered.

"I think I'd like to give it a try," he said at last. His fingers were pressed together at the tips, his hands making a pyramid shape. His eyes were more or less focused on his hands. "I've been an Ori Prior before, so having power isn't a new thing to me, although I am aware that the Power _you_ have is very different in many ways from the Ori power that _I_ had." He looked up at Didi and then said, "If I have the Power and things don't go right—if I actually make matters worse—I'd like to come back and try something else."

"If you make matters worse, you can't just leave them stranded," said Cam.

"I wouldn't," Daniel told him. "I'd return here, reset the time frame and go back there—but this time I'd only spend the night. Then, the next morning, I'd ostensibly move on to the next village. Once out of sight, I'd teleport back here. Leaving them the way I found them—having only had an overnight visitor—wouldn't cause them any more trouble than they'd have if I didn't go there at all."

Didi nodded. "That makes sense. And since time is relative in these situations, you could order yourself back to the exact moment you left here the first time, and we'd still have plenty of time to find another alternative."

"That's what I had in mind. So, do you want to try giving me the Power now? I think I'd kind of like to get used to it . . . how it works in comparison to the Ori power."

"I was planning to recommend that," Didi told him with a soft smile. "Your own body should tell you what it needs to renew your energy when you're depleted."

"So, you just craved Milky Ways?" he asked.

"Yep. It was weird, really. But it was there, as plain as could be: my body wanted a Milky Way, so I teleported one from Earth."

"Specifically from the vending machine in the manager's office of her original's apartment building," Cam said.

Daniel smiled. "Probably the only thing you've ever 'stolen' in your life."

Didi looked sheepish. "I wish I hadn't taken _it_," she said. "I just didn't know what else to do at the time, since I needed it so badly. But that doesn't matter right now."

Getting to her feet, she walked around and stood behind Daniel, putting her hands on top of his head. She then said, "**Cause Daniel's brain to produce the enzyme necessary for him to develop the Power possessed by the Chak-tuk elders**." When she had finished the pronouncement, she removed her hands from his head and returned to her seat next to her husband.

"How long before it takes effect?" Daniel asked.

"I'm not really sure. When Gor-lak healed me, I felt something strange happening inside of me, but since I wasn't _expecting_ anything except the healing, I didn't actually put it to the test. It was several minutes before I verbally wished for a glass of cold water and it appeared in the air in front of me." Didi shrugged. "If you want to try to use it now, go ahead. Ask for something simple."

"What did you say your first time, when you verbally asked for a glass of cold water?"

"Something like, 'I could really use a glass of ice cold, refrigerated water right now.' And, as I said it, I pictured in my mind one of the blue plastic drinking glasses from my original's cupboard and imagined the taste and coolness of the water from her fridge. The two thoughts, combined with the verbalization, made it happen. Believe me, it was quite a shock."

"I had to catch the glass before it hit the floor," said Cam. "Got splashed for my trouble, but it was worth it to find out she had the Power."

"Let me see, then . . . ." said Daniel contemplatively. Closing his eyes in concentration, he enunciated, "**Bring me an abandoned zat from a deserted battleground somewhere in this universe**." The requested item appeared on the table in front of him. "Wow," he said, impressed but not overly awed by the fact that his command had been fulfilled.

"Planning to take that to Abydos with you?" Cam asked with concern.

"I'm thinking about it, although I wouldn't use it unless I absolutely had to: I don't like hurting people. And, having been stunned by a zat a time or two myself, I know all too well how it feels."

"Don't we all?" commented Cam.

"I don't, and I'd just as soon keep it that way," said Didi.

"Better a zat than an AK-47, though," Cam pointed out.

"Unless, of course, the person holding the zat decides to kill you with it instead of shooting you only once and stunning you," said Daniel.

"There is that," agreed Cam.

"How long do you think you'll want to experiment with the Power before you're ready to look for a time and a place to live?" Didi queried.

"Maybe twenty-four hours. I'd like to try some time, space and inter-universal travel—just like _you_ did—before I embark on my journey. I wanna make sure I can get it right the first time. I also want to learn how to make commands properly."

"The key is to make them _super-specific_, like you would if you were granted a wish by a genie. If you don't get it right, there's no telling _what_ might happen: maybe nothing—or the consequences could be dire. It's best not to take unnecessary risks. If you wind up D.O.A., you won't get a second chance."

"Gotcha. I'll be careful . . . and I'll start small—maybe send for a few artifacts my original was studying that might be duplicated in other universes that don't have an SGC. I could pick up where he left off." He shrugged. "At least it would give me something to do to pass the time."

"Have fun with that," said Cam.

"Let me know what you crave after your Power nears depletion," said Didi. "I'm really curious."

Daniel smiled wryly. "I'll let you know. See you guys later." Having seen Didi do it, he placed the first two fingers of his hand on his forehead, closed his eyes in concentration, and teleported out.

"He's a fast learner," said Cam.

"He already knows what's possible," said Didi. "_I_ had to find out for myself. All _he_ has to do is learn _how_ to make things happen."

"Are you sure you couldn't give the Power to me—even for just an hour or two, so I can see what it's like?" Cam asked, almost whining, but not quite.

Didi sighed. "Okay, but only for an hour. If you behave yourself and don't misuse or abuse it, I might let you have it 'til bedtime."

"I'll be a good boy, I promise."

"You usually are," Didi said, sliding out of her chair and onto his lap. As she wound her arms around his neck, she added, "It's those times when you're _not_ that worry me."

Cam sighed as he wrapped his arms around her. "I know. And you're right about that. If I had the Power all the time, I probably _would_ misuse it. If I saw unfairness, injustice, abuse . . . I'd wanna _do_ something about it. I couldn't just stand by and let things happen if there was any way I could prevent it—even if it meant killing the perpetrator, which (with the Power) would be all too easy. And that's _not_ who I want to be. You're a very wise woman, Didina Steadman-Mitchell. If I get too demanding when it comes to wanting the Power, just slap me upside the head. I'll know why you're doing it. Sometimes I just get all het up and lose it. That's one of the things I'm trying to work on, and believe me, you're helping _a lot_."

"I'm glad. You're a good man, Cam—one of the best. If I can help you learn to be a little less impulsive, you'll be darned near perfect."

Cam shook his head. "I don't _want_ to be perfect," he said, "—at least, not yet. Being fallible is part of the human experience. Once you reach perfection, what do you have left to learn or to achieve?"

"Well," said Didi, "achieving perfection is, I think, primarily a matter of strength of character and nobility of spirit. You can still learn things you don't know, like . . . playing the cello, or something."

Cam laughed. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Still, a perfect person would have a hard time finding someone to marry: no one would be able to match their high standards."

"Or at least, no one would _believe_ they were good enough for the perfect person, no matter how much they might love them," said Didi.

"That is _so_ true. Most of the time I wonder what made _you_—as moral and upright a woman as you are—fall in love with a guy who's as obviously flawed as _I _am. I'm a lot further from perfection than you seem to think."

Didi smiled softly. "You're perfect for _me_. That's all that matters."

"I guess that works both ways: we're perfect for each other."

"That old adage that opposites attract isn't entirely without merit," said Didi. "The best relationships between men and women are those in which they complement each other: i.e., he's strong where she's weak, and she's strong where he's weak. Other than that, they usually have some common interests and/or beliefs that bind them together socially, intellectually and spiritually."

"I guess that's probably true. So, what do _you and I_ have in common?"

"I'm interested in a _lot_ of different things," said Didi. "And to spend time with you, I'd endure pretty much anything-even not knowing the details of your latest 'gate mission . . . although _that _would drive me crazy."

"Just to clarify . . . you'd endure anything except boxing, wrestling and NASCAR."

"Well, yeah. That's a given."

Cam laughed. "I'm gonna hold you to that promise once we set up housekeeping on an alternate Earth somewhere."

"Okay," Didi said, nodding. "A sample of my generosity: 'Guy' movies; lots of sports—live or on TV (even pay-per-view); a weekend a month at your parents'; and listening to whatever type of music you happen to be in the mood for at any given time."

"And what do _I_ have to develop interest in if I wanna keep this relationship balanced? I know you won't mind too much doing all those things with me, but what do _you_ enjoy doing . . . on your own?"

"I like to read a lot, and my taste in books is generally the same as my taste in movies. I like comedies, murder mysteries, fantasy, some horror (as long as it's not too grisly or satanic in nature), anything romantic, and sci-fi . . . although, in light of recent events, I think I may've changed my mind about that one."

"I don't have a problem with any of those," said Cam. "Before I met you, I would've balked at the whole _idea_ of romance—except romantic comedies, which are always a hoot. But now that I know what love is really all about, I expect I'll be comparing every couple in every romantic movie I see to you and me. And I'd be willing to bet the farm that not one of them could measure up to what _we_ have."

"I do love you, Colonel Mitchell, and our love for each other is the most important thing we have in common."

"Amen to that! So . . . how about a little kiss?" Since her head was slightly higher than his, she, for once, had to lower her lips to meet his.

After the kiss was over, Didi touched her forehead to Cam's and said, "Are you ready to take a look at one of the worlds that doesn't have an SGC and see what happened to . . . us?"

Cam smiled. "You knew all along what I was thinking, didn't you?"

"You're wondering if you and I really are cosmic."

"Yeah."

"**Show us the home life of an Air Force pilot named Cameron Mitchell who lives on one of the Earths that doesn't have an SGC**."

"There ya go," Cam said with a self-satisfied smile. "He's with Didi. Somehow, some way they still managed to meet."

Didi smiled, too. "It looks like our relationship really _is_ cosmic."

"I told you. End it and let's go back to our room 'til lunch. I think it's time for a little R & R."

"Mm," said Didi in agreement, kissing him once more. "And maybe . . . if you're a _really_ good boy, I'll give you the Power before we go to lunch."

"Woot!" Cam exclaimed, kissing his wife's cheek. "Let's go, sweetcake!"

Sometime later, as the newleyweds were preparing to go to the cafeteria for lunch, in her mind Didi suddenly heard Daniel screaming in agony. Gasping, she quickly closed her eyes and concentrated. A moment later, Daniel appeared and collapsed on the floor by the bed. Didi knelt by his side and began to use her Power to heal him.

"Crimeny, Daniel, what did you do?" she asked with anguish in her voice.

"Is he going to be all right?" Cam queried, concern written on his face.

Didi nodded. "He'll be fine. I'm healing him slowly. If I do it all at once, it might be a shock to his system. He's much too out of it to be able to heal himself."

"Then it's a good thing you gave me the Power. Let me help," Cam offered.

"Thanks, love," Didi replied. "Just be careful and do one section of his body at a time."

"You do from his head to his waist, and I'll do from the waist down. How about that?"

"All right," Didi agreed.

Seconds later, Daniel began to groan. "Oh, crap!" he muttered. "That hurt!"

"What'd you do, Daniel?" Didi asked again.

"I teleported myself onto the _Odyssey_ just before it blew up. Unlike Teal'c, I wasn't protected from the blast. I tried to teleport myself out, but I wasn't fast enough. How did you—?"

"I heard you scream in my mind and acted quickly."

"If she hadn't, you'd be toast right now," Cam told him.

"I know. Thanks, Didi." Cam wasn't offended that Daniel didn't thank him as well, since he had no way of knowing that Didi had given her husband the Power.

"I told you to be super-specific in giving commands, Daniel," Didi scolded him. "If you wanted to teleport yourself onto the _Odyssey_ before it exploded—and why you would is a mystery to me—you should've specified a timeframe of some kind . . . even if it was only a matter of five or ten seconds."

"Yeah, I know. I messed up. I was testing my reflexes: I wanted to see how quickly I _could_ react in an emergency. Obviously, I can't do anything instantaneously. The explosion happened the moment I appeared, so I didn't even have time to think; all I could do was scream. What I don't understand is why you were able to hear me in your mind."

"Probably because you thought of me in that moment of panic, hoping I'd hear and could get you out of there."

"I think I did, actually. I wanted to call out your name, but I couldn't form the word. All I could do was vocalize my pain and picture you in my mind. I guess it was enough."

"Fortunately for you," Cam said. He helped Daniel to his feet and sat him down on the edge of the bed.

"You said you were going to get some artifacts and study them," said Didi, "not take reckless chances with your life. If you keep this up, I'm going to take the Power away until you're ready to go to Abydos."

"And I wouldn't blame you if you did," Daniel admitted. He sighed. "I think I can finish healing myself now." He then proceeded to do so. Cam and Didi sat quietly and waited for his eyes to open . . . which they did when the repairs to his body were complete.

"So . . . now what?" Didi asked.

"Do you think you could teach me how to set alarms?" the miscreant archaeologist asked. "Then I'll have enough warning to put up barriers if I need to."

Didi nodded. "Easily. It's a matter of how much of a warning you want and need in order to accomplish your purposes. Setting up barriers—especially if you're going to do more than one—can take some time . . . and a lot of energy. If you set up an invisibility cloak, you can make that permanent. Once it's set, it doesn't require additional Power to keep it operational, and you can take it down anytime you want to. I know all this because I've performed experiments whenever Cam's been taking a nap and I've had little else to do."

"So, basically, from the moment I arrive, I could put up a cloak that would make the village completely undetectable from space and invisible to any invaders that might come through the 'gate."

Didi nodded. "Yes, you could. If the Goa'uld are suspicious, however, and decide to fire on the spot where they know the village used to be, the people could still get hurt. You'd need to put up both a cloak and a force shield at the same time. That would require more energy initially, but, as I said, they'd be self-sustaining once they were up and going."

"How is that possible? Every cloaking device or force shield generator of any kind that we've ever come across has required massive amounts of energy not only to produce, but to keep active."

Didi shook her head. "I don't know _how _it works; I only know that it does. Perhaps the amount of Power required to set them up is so massive because they _are_ permanent: all of the energy requirements are poured into it during initialization."

Daniel looked thoughtful. "I suppose that must be it. Anyway, I'll start taking a look at alternate universes where Abydos and Sha're still exist and see what the conditions are. If I have to go back in time to find a Sha're who isn't already married to someone else, I will. If Ra is still lording it over the planet, I'll overload the systems on his ship until it explodes and make it look like an accident, as you suggested. Once Ra's out of the way, I can put up a cloak and barriers to protect the village from Apophus when he shows up to try to take over Ra's territory."

"Good thinking," Didi agreed. "If Ra were to see the village suddenly disappear, he'd probably want it checked out. Best to eliminate him up front and then protect the village from any subsequent invaders afterward."

"That was my thought."

"Listen," said Cam. "Since you've already done enough damage to yourself for one day, how about either repairing what you're wearing or putting on some fresh clothes and joining us in the cafeteria for lunch? I'm sure you could use an energy boost right about now."

"Sounds like a good idea. Problem is, I don't even have enough energy to procure what I'm craving, never mind repairing my clothes or going to get fresh ones."

"What are you craving?" Didi asked.

"Strangely enough, a glazed cinnamon roll—preferably with raisins."

Didi smiled. "Coming right up." She closed her eyes and concentrated and soon the object of Daniel's desire appeared in her hand. After freshening it, she gave it to him. He took two bites and then felt renewed enough to repair his singed clothing.

"Didi," said Cam teasingly, "did you steal that cinnamon roll?"

Didi blushed. "Yes, but . . . it was a leftover from yesterday that didn't get bought from the grocery store's bakery. It was hard and dry and would've been thrown out anyway."

"I'll have to remember to specify things like that anytime I procure one for myself while on Abydos," Daniel remarked with a twisted smile.

"My wife is uncompromisingly honest," stated Cam, "but she's not averse to taking things that would've been thrown out."

"I tend to agree with her," said Daniel, "and not just because I need the cinnamon roll to survive. I think it's better for old food to be given new life and eaten by someone who needs it than to be simply tossed out and go to waste."

"So, are we ready for lunch, then?" Cam queried.

"Sure," said Daniel. "I'll finish the cinnamon roll as we go. Unlike a candy bar, it won't keep for multiple uses later on." He smiled as he took another bite. "Anyway, it's delicious! Thanks, Didi."

Even though any one of the trio could've teleported them to the cafeteria _en masse_, none of them chose to do so. A leisurely walk was never a bad thing, and it gave them a chance to chat a little while longer and for Daniel to verbalize more of his plans for Abydos. Didi understood how he felt. She had spent hours using Cam as a sounding board for the various options she was considering when it came to using her Power.

As they neared the cafeteria, the smell of fresh-baked pizza assailed them. It was, indeed, time for lunch.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21: DELIBERATION

While sharing a three-meat pizza that they had cooked in the kitchen's conventional oven, Sam and Teal'c wondered why they were the only ones in the cafeteria at lunchtime. The absence of Cam and Didi they could understand. The colonel and his lady wanted as much time alone together as they could get, while they could get it. Even though they were technically married, once they left this place, circumstances would change: their more intimate moments would have to be completely clandestine.

"I wonder where Daniel and Vala are, though," Sam said.

Teal'c's eyebrow went up. "I believe Vala Mal Doran may yet be in distress," he replied.

"Because of the whole Qetesh thing?—or do you think it has something to do with the fact that Didi's still trying to find a way for Daniel to be with Sha're?" Sam asked.

"It may be a combination of both. As Didina Steadman-Mitchell was unable at first to find a viable way to reunite Daniel Jackson with Sha're—which undoubtedly gave Vala Mal Doran some hope for a future of her own with Daniel Jackson—hearing that Mrs. Mitchell had devised an alternative method of bringing Daniel Jackson and Sha're together very probably caused her distress even _before_ she found out that she had become Qetesh again in the alternate timeline created by Ba'al."

"That's probably true, but . . . I don't really think Daniel would be interested in spending the rest of his life with Vala, even if he _couldn't_ spend it with Sha're," said Sam.

"Perhaps he would if Didina showed him what happened between himself and Vala Mal Doran during the fifty years that we were in the time dilation field aboard _Odyssey_."

"You mean, they _did _hook up?" Sam queried.

"Indeed. The relationship was most felicitous."

"Still, they had no way of knowing how long it would take me to find the answer to the problem. If it hadn't taken me fifty years, would they have remained together after returning to Earth?"

"That is a difficult question to answer. At least Daniel Jackson knew that, while we were trapped, if Vala Mal Doran lost interest in him, she could not run away; the most she could do is avoid him. Such would not have been the case on Earth."

"So the fact that we were trapped gave Daniel a greater sense of security," Sam inferred.

"Indeed. That is why I chose not to say anything about their relationship when we returned. I thought it best to let them work through their feelings for one another in their own way and in their own time, if they chose to do such. However, under the current circumstances—that of their being clones—they have little to lose should they decide to 'hook up' again."

"Meaning that, if they get together here and it doesn't work out, they can always go their separate ways; they won't have to go to the same world and/or work together the way their originals would if _they_ knew what happened and weren't comfortable with it."

"Precisely, Colonel Carter. Ah! Here come Colonel and Mrs. Mitchell—and Daniel Jackson. Only Vala Mal Doran is still absent."

"Hi, guys!" said Cam affably. "Pizza, huh? Looks good. Jackson, Didi, would you two like to split a pizza with me?"

"Why not?" Daniel replied, taking a seat next to Teal'c.

"If there's one with Canadian bacon, sure," Didi said, sitting at the table that was designated as hers and Cam's. She sat beside Sam, who was directly across the group table from Teal'c. Cam, meanwhile, left to get the pizza and, Didi hoped, to cook it.

"You've got him well trained," Sam commented dryly.

"He loves me," Didi said with a shrug. "When you really love someone, you want to do everything you can to make them happy—or to lighten their load. Cam figures I've done enough over the past couple of days, just getting the food here. He's not averse to getting his hands dirty in a good cause."

"You certainly seem to be pleasing him."

Didi blushed. "It's not that hard to do. He's an incredibly warm and loving man. I adore him."

"So, any idea where Vala might be?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"No idea. I expect she's still in her room, since she was so depressed."

"What have _you_ been up to, Daniel?" Sam asked. "Did you and Didi work things out yet?"

"More or less," Daniel answered.

"I gave Daniel the Chak-tuk Power," said Didi.

"_You did what_?" Sam asked. Teal'c's eyebrows went up.

"I did it so he can use it to protect Abydos in one of the universes where the Stargate was never discovered in Egypt. All he wants to do is keep Sha're and her people safe for the rest of his life. With the Chak-tuk Power he can do that."

"Uh, Didi," said Sam, "could I talk to you alone for a minute?"

"Sure." The two women got up and walked to the far side of the room, out of earshot of Daniel.

"Teal'c and I were just speculating about Daniel and Vala," said Sam. "If Daniel can't make the Abydos scenario work no matter how hard he tries—with or without your help—maybe we should let him know what happened between Vala and himself aboard _Odyssey_ while we were stuck in that time dilation field for fifty years."

"Did the two of them get together during that time?" Didi asked.

"According to Teal'c they did," Sam replied.

"I'll keep that in mind as another option, then," said Didi. "If Daniel sees what happened between the two of them, maybe he'll consider being with Vala as a viable alternative to being alone."

"I hope so. If things don't work out at all with Sha're, it'd be nice if he and Vala could go to the same place together," Sam opined.

"Yes, it would," Didi agreed. "Having each other for companionship could make living on a different Earth a little easier to deal with."

"And if they go back in time a few years, they'll already know what they need to do to get things right," said Sam. "They'll know where to go to find Merlin, how to build the Sangraal, and where to find the Ark of Truth."

"That certainly would be advantageous. . . ."

Vala entered at that moment and approached Daniel and Teal'c. "What's going on, guys?"

"Colonel Carter and I are sharing a pizza," Teal'c told her. "Colonel Mitchell is baking one for himself, his wife and Daniel Jackson. There are still a few slices left of the one Colonel Carter and I are sharing, if you would like them, Vala Mal Doran."

"Why are Samantha and Didina talking privately over there?" she asked.

"Because they don't want us to know what they're talking about," said Daniel.

"I wonder what's going on. . . ." Vala said with a furrowed brow, sitting in Sam's chair across from Teal'c.

"You could go ask them," Daniel suggested.

"No," said Vala, shaking her head. "If they want me to know, they'll let me in on it later." She sighed. "Until then, I'll just have to remain in the dark." She exhaled, smiled, and asked, "So, what's up with you, Daniel? Have you found a new home yet?"

"Not yet, but it shouldn't be long now."

"In order to facilitate Daniel Jackson's desire to protect the people of Abydos," said Teal'c, "Didina Steadman-Mitchell gave him the Power of the Chak-tuk."

Sam and Didi had finished talking and were on their way back to the tables. As they approached, Vala looked up at Didi and asked, "Is it true? You gave Daniel the Chak-tuk Power so that he could protect Sha're and her people from the Goa'uld?" When Didi nodded wordlessly, Vala looked at Daniel. "And you've been experimenting with it, right?"

Daniel nodded and explained to Vala what his various ideas were for using the Power to protect the Abydonians.

"Quite brilliant, Daniel," said Vala. "I hope your endeavor will meet with success." She got up from the table and headed for the cafeteria exit.

Cam turned up then with the pizza. "Why'd Vala come and go so quickly?" he asked, as he set a plate with two slices of pizza on the table in front of Didi and another in front of Daniel at the other table.

"She's upset," said Sam in answer to Cam's query. She then slid back into the chair Vala had just vacated, so that she was, once again, seated across the table from Teal'c and next to Didi.

"Nothing new there," said Cam. He then put down his own plate, sat down on the other side of his wife and picked up a slice of pizza.

"**Glass of milk**," commanded Didi. It appeared on the table in front of her. She took a drink.

"Oops! Sorry, hun," said Cam. "I didn't think about drinks."

"You had enough to do just to cook the pizza and divvy it up. I'm not helpless." She gave him a smile of irony. "Would you like something to drink?"

"I'll get it myself." He closed his eyes and said, "**Can of Coke**." The requested object appeared on the table in front of him.

"You gave Cam the Power, too?" Sam asked incredulously.

"It's only temporary. He's not going to keep it. He just wanted to try it for a little while."

"You really are spoiling him."

"He's going to spend the rest of his life spoiling me," Didi replied. "It's the least I can do."

Cam gave Sam a whimsical smile. "It's all about the love, Sam," he told her. "It's all about the love."

"You're awfully quiet, Daniel," said Sam. "What's on your mind?"

"You guys have all been saying that Vala's upset. We all _know_ she's upset. We all saw how she reacted when she found out she'd been Qetesh again in the alternate timeline. But she's had plenty of time to get over that particular snit. She doesn't usually carry things around that long.

"Now, I may be a dry and rather unimaginative individual, but I'm not stupid. Even _I_ can see that Vala's upset because of _me_. I've been aware for some time that the woman has feelings for me. The only trouble is, I don't trust her. She treated me like a sex object on the day we met. Over the years she has taunted me, teased me, toyed with me. . . . That's not the best way to establish a meaningful relationship with _anyone—_never mind a serious academic like myself. Even if she's sincere now—which, I admit, is a possibility—it's too little too late. Her previous behavior has served only to alienate me from her on an emotional level. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is. I have no intention of spending the rest of my life with Vala Mal Doran."

"Then you'd better tell _her_ that," said Sam. "I'm sure she's already figured it out, but . . . maybe it would sink in deeper if you were to be upfront with her about it."

"I'll do it," said Didi.

"Why would _you_ want to do it?" Daniel asked. "It's not really any of your business."

"Finding _Vala _a home is as much my business as is finding one for _you_, Daniel," Didi replied.

"You intend to find a universe where she and I never met, aren't you?" Daniel conjectured.

"She really does love you, Daniel," Didi answered. "If she can't have you, the least I can do is to offer her an alternative Daniel Jackson: one who'll never know who and what she _used_ to be and will accept her and love her for the person she has become over the past few years—the person she is now."

Daniel sighed. "There was a time when I would've said that I wouldn't wish her on _any_ version of myself, but that's not true anymore. I know Vala has value and worth as an individual, and I know that she's changed and has tremendous potential to be a _really good_ person. I wish my negative feelings toward her didn't run so deep. If they didn't, maybe things would be different. But I am who I am, and I haven't been able to overcome my prejudices where she's concerned. If you can find her a home somewhere with another Daniel Jackson, more power to both of you. I hope she'll be happy."

"I'm relieved," said Didi. "I had a feeling, when I first saw the two of you together, that you had issues with Vala. And when I realized I could find homes for all of us, I knew she wanted to be with you. I had no intention of ever letting you know that I was going to try to find a Daniel Jackson somewhere for her. I figured you wouldn't approve—that your attitude _would_ be that you wouldn't wish her on any version of yourself. I'm glad you don't feel that way anymore. Vala deserves to be happy just as much as the rest of you do." She pushed her plate away and got to her feet. "If you'll all excuse me, I think I'll go have a word with her and see if I can't get her to come back and eat something."

"I'll try to be out of here before she comes back," said Daniel. "I don't think she'd enjoy seeing me right now."

"You had enough to eat, hun?" Cam asked his wife.

Didi nodded. "I'm fine, although I may eat a bit more later on. At the moment I'm worried about Vala." She leaned down and kissed her husband on the cheek. "I'll see you in a little while, love."

Soon thereafter . . .

"Vala, it's Didi. Could I talk to you for a few minutes?"

The door to Vala's room opened; and, as she ushered Didi in, she asked, "Did Daniel send you to ease my pain?"

Didi shook her head as Vala closed the door behind her. "No, I volunteered to come." She told Vala everything Daniel had said.

"He has no objections to my finding a home with another Daniel?"

"None whatsoever. He does care about you, Vala. You just overdid it with the teasing, and playing with him as though he were your boy toy. Daniel isn't the kind of man who takes well to that kind of behavior."

"I know," said Vala desolately, sinking onto her bunk. "Unfortunately, I didn't know that when I met him. It took me a long while to learn what kind of man Daniel really is."

"And by that time, it was too late."

"Apparently."

"If you'd like, I could try to find you a home now. . . ."

"Aren't you in the middle of looking for a place for Daniel? I wouldn't want you to spread yourself too thin. . . ."

"Now that Daniel has the Power, he can find his _own_ world and send himself there whenever he chooses. All I have to do is double-check his findings to make sure all of the parameters are correct before he goes, so that he doesn't end up in serious trouble. I can spare the time and the Power to look for a place for you, Vala—if you're ready."

Vala smiled wanly. "Let's have a look, then, shall we?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't like lunch first?"

"I am rather hungry, but . . ."

"You don't want to go back to the cafeteria and take a chance on meeting Daniel there again."

"You are an incredibly perceptive woman—and a good friend. I hope, wherever I end up, I'll be able to find that world's version of you and make friends with her."

"If _she's_ with Cam and _you're_ with Daniel and they're both at the SGC, that shouldn't be too difficult. If not, just look for the optometric office of Dr. Edward Grant, my cousin, in Colorado Springs. If it's there, I'll probably be there, too—as of October first, anyway."

"I'll remember. Thank you."

"Before we start looking for your new home, I'll teleport some food to you from the cafeteria. What would you like?"

"Actually, I'm in the mood for an egg salad sandwich. Unfortunately, it's not on the menu."

"I can make one, anyway," said Didi with a soft smile. She closed her eyes and concentrated. "**If there's any pizza left on either table in the cafeteria that no one's going to eat, teleport it—plate and all—to me**." A plate containing two slices of three-meat pizza appeared in Didi's waiting hands.

Smiling, she asked, "How do you like your egg salad sandwich?"

After Vala answered the query, Didi closed her eyes again and transmuted the pizza into an egg salad sandwich, prepared just the way Vala had requested.

"That is so remarkable," said Vala. "As many things as I've seen you do over the past few days, transmuting is by far the most impressive. You have to change the very nature of an object at the molecular level to accomplish that. It is truly awesome!"

"It isn't all that difficult, either. Would you like something to drink, too?"

"Just some water. I had enough acid this morning." Didi teleported a glass of cold, refrigerated water from the kitchen for her.

"Now, while you're having lunch, I'll start searching for a Daniel Jackson who's never had the privilege of meeting Vala Mal Doran."

Two hours later, Cam came knocking. "Didi, are you in there? It's time for your second workout session of the day. But, hey, if you wanna skip it, I'll understand."

Vala looked at Didi and smiled softly. "Go," she said. "You've given me plenty of options. I'll mull them over and make a decision some time in the next couple of days, I promise."

Didi nodded. "You know I'll do everything I can to make it work for you, whichever path you choose to take."

"I know. Now, go. Colonel Mitchell wants you—and he has first dibs."

"Coming, Cam," said Didi. "See you later, Vee." And she left.

"So, how'd it go with Vala?" Cam asked Didi as he lifted weights and she walked the treadmill.

"Good. I showed her several different Earths where there's a Daniel Jackson who never met her. Many of them have similar histories, so it's a matter of picking and choosing."

"Were there any specific ones that seemed to appeal to her most?"

"There were three. One is very much like our own Daniel. He has a similar history—including previous ascensions—but with one major difference."

"Which is?"

"In _our_ universe, General O'Neill didn't let Daniel go to Atlantis when he first wanted to, right? —which is why he ended up on board the _Prometheus_ with General Hammond when Vala hijacked it."

"Right. . . . So?"

"In one alternate universe, General O'Neill let him go to Atlantis from the outset. The _Prometheus _was still hijacked by Vala, but Daniel wasn't on board. The general and his crew were simply going to check on the expedition and make sure they were okay. It took some time, but SG-1 managed to get _Prometheus_ back. Vala was out of the picture by then, and, since she was wearing the Goa'uld super-soldier armor until after they were all off the ship, none of the crew saw her face. No one on that Earth knows Vala was behind the hijacking, and, to this day, she's never been to Earth."

"So, our Vala could safely go there and just meet Jackson somewhere and try to generate some interest."

"I figured I could use my Power to create an identity for her, complete with birth certificate, Social Security number, driver's license . . ."

"Vala doesn't drive—not well, anyway."

"Maybe we could teach her before she goes. Or we could sign her up for an adult driver's ed class, or something along those lines."

Cam laughed. "That'd be something to see."

"If she can fly a spaceship, she should be able to drive a car, don't you think?"

"There's not as much traffic in space and there are no stoplights."

"True."

"So, what were the other two Jacksons like?"

"On some of the Earths where the Stargate was never discovered, Daniel is basically a pariah in the academic community. He teaches English-as-a-second-language classes. He truly is a geek. Vala found him quite endearing, but I don't think she could stand to see him quite so . . . pathetic. About the only way she could even come close to making him into the man he should be is by helping him to find the alternate 'gate in Antarctica. (She told me about that herself.) She's not even sure how that would help, or if it would help at all."

Cam put the barbell back into its rack and walked over to the treadmill. "I think I have an idea. Since Ra took the original 'gate way back when, but the Goa'uld were never aware of the one in Antarctica, we could use the Power to teleport the 'gate from Antarctica to Egypt—to a location that'd never been dug up before but which _was_ excavated sometime in the _latter_ half of the twentieth century. We could check with Jackson. He'd know what those locations might be and which would be most favorable as a place to hide the 'gate."

Didi stopped walking, got off the treadmill and looked up into her husband's face. "But if we do that, it'll change his entire history, and there's no telling where that would put Vala."

"We could arrange for her to be a part of the crew that discovers the 'gate in the first place. She could be his Catherine."

"Who?"

"Catherine Langford." Cam explained the history of the Stargate as he remembered it.

"So Catherine was the one who brought Daniel on board in the first place," Didi said.

"Yes, she was. And Vala could do the same. All she'd need to be, really, is a student of archaeology with a recommendation from someone in the archaeological community to get in on the dig. She could mention Dr. Daniel Jackson as a man well-versed in ancient languages—someone they might consult in order to interpret and read the symbols on the 'gate."

"And if the DHD were found intact as well . . ."

"Good idea," Cam said. "We could teleport the DHD from Antarctica, too. The one in Egypt was destroyed after the 'gate was buried—at least, on _our_ Earth."

"After thousands of years of disuse, I can well imagine that it would've been destroyed under _any _circumstances. But if the DHD is hidden in a secure place along with the 'gate, it might survive intact."

"The question is, would Jackson have enough credibility left by then to warrant their bringing him in."

"From what I've been told, he didn't have much when he _did_ join the Stargate program. It was only because he was such an expert in Egyptology that he was called in at all."

"That's true," Cam acknowledged, "and Vala could coach him—carefully. Drop hints, give him clues . . . whatever it takes to help him get a handle on the symbols and what they're for."

"If he _needs_ the help. Something tells me he could figure it out on his own. All of the Daniel Jacksons that are a part of SG-1 did."

"I realize that. But Vala needs to make herself _useful_ to Jackson, if not indispensable."

"You're right. She could just help him along a little at a time. As engrossed as he gets, though, he might not even notice that she's doing it."

"And if she gets impatient, she might end up . . . vamping him."

"That would probably be a mistake," opined Didi.

"Maybe, maybe not," Cam said with a sly smile. "A man like Jackson, with no real prospects for a bright future, would be highly unlikely to have a girlfriend at that point in his life. If she didn't come on _too _strong, she'd probably be okay. But we should warn her ahead of time to take it easy on him."

"I think she'll have a sense of who he is before she goes there—if she decides to pursue that one."

"What about the third type?" Cam queried.

"Why don't we talk some more back in our room? My ten minutes are up, and I'd like to sit for a while."

Cam smiled. "Okay. Shall we walk, or take the express?" He winked; then he grabbed his wife, closed his eyes and teleported them both to the general's quarters.

"Whoa! That's disorienting," said Cam, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "My head's spinning. How can you do that as often as you do?"

"I've never tried to do it right after exercising."

"Well, it's no wonder you get weak in the knees every time you teleport after doing a lot of other stuff with your Power. I think I'm beginning to understand why you need to eat that Milky Way so often. I'm having a bit of a craving myself now."

"What for?"

"A box of raisins."

"A box of raisins? That's weird. Daniel wanted raisins in his cinnamon roll, too. But there's no sugar in raisins by themselves. . . ."

"So, maybe you were wrong. Maybe sugar isn't the key ingredient."

Didi nodded her head. "Yes, it is. But I was wrong about there not being sugar in raisins. There is: fructose. It's pure, _natural_ sugar—not refined, powdered, granulated or anything else. Maybe the fructose found in raisins is the kind of sugar _your_ body needs. It may vary as much from person to person as the colors of our DNA strands do."

Cam shrugged. "Whatever. Do we have any raisins in the pantry?"

"I believe I picked up a couple of expired packages. Want me to bring you some?"

"Please. My head's still a bit woozy."

Didi closed her eyes and concentrated and a single-serving box of California raisins appeared in her hand. She opened her eyes and gave it to her husband.

"Thanks," he said with a soft, appreciative smile. He popped a few raisins into his mouth and began to chew. "You still rule when it comes to using the Power."

Didi shook her head. "If that were true, you wouldn't've had to scold me for overtaxing myself and passing out when I didn't eat my Milky Way soon enough. _I_ still have a few things to learn, too."

"Speaking of which . . . I want you to take a bite of that candy bar _right now_. No more Power use until you recoup what you've already lost."

"Yes, dear," Didi said submissively. She pulled the Milky Way from her jeans pocket and took a generous bite. She then propped her pillow up against the headboard and leaned back against it.

Cam climbed over to his side of the bed, set the box of raisins on the nightstand, propped his own pillow against the headboard and leaned against it. He then said, "Now that I'm fully recovered, you can tell me about Vala's third Daniel Jackson choice."

"This one was completely different from any of the others," said Didi.

"In what way?"

"The Ori decimated the Earth."

"Jackson wasn't able to find Merlin and build the Sangraal?"

Didi shook her head. "Daniel was on a work-visit to Atlantis when the Ori threat first manifested itself, so he wasn't around to find and build the Sangraal. Vala and I took a look to see how in the world the Ori found out about the Milky Way galaxy in the first place, since, in our universe, it was Daniel and Vala who led them to it.

"As it turns out, the communication device that sent the two of them into the bodies of the couple in the Ori galaxy was used by Sam and that world's version of you instead. The Ori Prior burned _both_ of them and didn't bring either of them back to life the way he did Vala when she was burned.

"When an Ori Prior showed up at the SGC, no one there or in the government took them seriously. They didn't realize how truly dangerous the Ori were because neither Sam nor Cam survived to tell them. Of course their threats went unheeded, seeing as how Earth is already rife with a multiplicity of religions.

"When five Ori ships took up positions in orbit around the earth, General Landry contacted Atlantis and told them they needed _Daedalus _back ASAP. In the meantime, they did the best they could to defend the planet, but nothing was powerful enough. By the time _Daedalus_ returned to Earth with Daniel aboard, everything was gone. The planet was decimated and Cheyenne Mountain destroyed—on the outside, at least. There were only a few pockets of survivors scattered here and there around the world, and they were all in hiding.

"Daniel was teleported straight into the SGC to have a look around, but it was deserted. Colonel Caldwell had him beamed back up and then they located a survivor camp near Colorado Springs where he could take refuge. Daniel wanted to stay on board and fight, since the _Daedalus _was the only ship Earth had left, and he wanted his pound of flesh. But Colonel Caldwell wouldn't risk his life that way. Since everyone and everything he cared about was gone, Daniel became dark, brooding and bitter."

Didi sighed and then said, "I don't know if Vala will want to go to that world or not. I somehow doubt it. But her heart did go out to him. You should've seen the tears in her eyes when she realized how utterly alone he was."

"So, the decision Vala makes will probably depend on what she feels she can do to help and how much she's willing to sacrifice for Jackson's sake."

Didi nodded. "Yes, I'd say so. It'll be a true test of her courage and the depth of her love for Daniel. Any of the three scenarios would be problematical, but that last one would be the most difficult for Vala herself on a personal level."

"Yeah, it would. With no one else there to help and support them, they'd be completely on their own. They'd have to decide whether to go to Merlin's lab and try to build and deploy the Sangraal on their own, or to just give it up and make a life for themselves in one of the survival camps."

"Even if they managed to find Merlin's lab, there's no guarantee he'd still be alive. From what you guys told me, it was touch and go in _our_ universe, and your originals had a window of opportunity."

"That's too true. If Vala decides to go for that one, she may need some help. A little time travel might be in order."

Didi nodded. "That occurred to me, too, when I saw Vala's face and knew that it was one of the possibilities she might choose."

"How soon till she gives you an answer?"

"She said a couple of days. She wants to deliberate for a while, I guess. . . . Not that I blame her: it's a big decision. Her future hangs on it."

"So, now what? Wanna watch another 'movie'?"

"Like what?"

"Something with Colonel O'Neill in it. I still don't remember what I read about Froot Loops."

Didi smiled, bemused. "I should ask to see something that happened to Colonel O'Neill in which Froot Loops played a part?"

Cam shrugged. "Something along those lines."

Didi exhaled and looked thoughtful. She then closed her eyes and said, "**Show us an experience Colonel Jack O'Neill wrote about in a mission report that mentioned Froot Loops**."

"It's a _Groundhog Day_ adventure!" Cam said after a few minutes of viewing.

"I'll bet he hasn't touched Froot Loops since," said Didi.

"I know _I_ wouldn't if I were in his shoes," said Cam. "That's rough!"

"What about Teal'c, though? He remembers, too, which means that he's also caught in the time loop. What happened to him while Colonel O'Neill was in the cafeteria with his Froot Loops?"

"Let's have a look. Whatever it was, the big guy never mentioned it in his report of the incident."

Didi smiled. "He wouldn't. Teal'c's not much on details." She closed her eyes and said, "**Show us what happened to Teal'c each time the day repeated itself**."

"Ouch! Oh, man! I think I'd rather have Colonel O'Neill's repetitious Froot Loops breakfast!"

"No kidding!" said Didi.

"So, now that we know what happened—generally speaking—how did it all come out?"

"You want me to fast forward?"

"Yeah, I'm getting kinda tired of watching the same things over and over again. It's no wonder they got frustrated and took a few turns off to goof around. . . .What happened once they were able to get all of the information they needed into Jackson's brain before the next shift occurred?"

Cam's question was soon answered and he nodded his head with satisfaction. "So, Earth was out of touch with the rest of the galaxy the entire time that the loop kept repeating itself. Wow. It's scary to think that time marches on, whether you're a part of it or not."

"_We're_ sort of in the _opposite_ position: we can go wherever, whenever we want to. We don't have to let time march on without us."

"It's like trying to jump onto a moving train," said Cam.

"Maybe, but at least the train isn't moving too quickly," Didi pointed out.

"True—fortunately for us." Cam looked at his watch. "We still have about an hour and a half to kill until dinnertime. Got any pressing business you need to take care of?"

Didi smiled. "I was so busy on Saturday and Sunday, I hardly had time to eat or breathe. Now I've got time on my hands while Daniel and Vala deliberate over their destinations."

"Good!" said Cam. He drew close to his wife and gathered her into his arms. "That means I can hold you for awhile."

"Just hold me? That's all?" Her face and voice expressed both amusement and skepticism.

"Yes-just hold you. Even though I'm madly in love with you—and undeniably attracted to you—sometimes it's nice just to have you in my arms . . . to know that you belong to me."

She gazed into his eyes, a soft smile on her face. "I like that feeling, too—that I belong to you."

"It works both ways, you know: _I_ belong to _you_, too—and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Neither would I. I love you, Cam."

He pulled her closer and kissed her on the head. "As crazy as our life is right now, I don't think I'd trade this time we have together for the lives of any other Cam and Didi anywhere in the multi-verse."

Didi sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. Before long, she was asleep. Cam wasn't surprised. She'd been up late every night since she'd gotten the Power: bringing them all here the first night; watching holographic projections and looking for answers while he slept on the two ensuing nights. Her days, meanwhile, had been filled with transmuting and procuring objects and fulfilling the needs of everyone here. It was no wonder she was tired.

He lay there quietly, holding her in his arms, listening to her breathe. Didi was a miracle—plain and simple. She shouldn't exist; _none_ of them should. But the Chak-tuk had breathed into all of them the breath of life, and now his life and hers would be intertwined for as long as they lived.

Cam reflected that, where his _personal_ life was concerned, he'd been like a ship lost at sea; then Didi had entered the picture. Like a lighthouse beacon, she had shown him the way to safe harbor. Since then, she had _become_ that harbor; she had become his _Home_—with a capital H.

His love for her was as boundless as space itself; as deep and fathomless as the Marianas Trench; as lofty as the top of Mt. Everest; as warm as Kansas at noonday in early summer. He couldn't imagine living the rest of his life without this precious creature by his side. Once again, he thanked God for her, and this time he experienced the warmth and peace that Didi had so often described.

Overwhelmed by what he was feeling, he tightened his hold on her a little bit. In response, she sighed softly in her sleep. He smiled. Didi had told him that being in his arms gave her a feeling of comfort and security. Cam hoped she would _always_ feel that way. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with his wife resting safely and securely in his arms. His eyes began moving rapidly beneath their lids as he dreamed of her.

It was after six by the time Didi awakened and kissed the nose of her still-sleeping husband. He reached out a limp hand and swatted at an imaginary fly. She smiled, kissed the top of his ear and whispered, "Cam, love, it's dinnertime."

"Hm?" His eyelids fluttered. A look of puzzlement was on his face as he endeavored to swim to consciousness. When at last his eyes began to open and a certain amount of awareness shown in them, he tried to focus on the face in front of him. "Dee?"

"Mm-hm," she said, nodding. "It's me, love." She put a hand on his cheek. "It's dinnertime. I woke up when my stomach rumbled. I didn't think you'd want me to go to dinner without you."

More awake now, Cam smiled a little. "No, I wouldn't." He yawned. "Just give me a minute or two to clear the fog from my brain." He shook his head. "Man, I was having one _whale_ of a dream." He gazed into her eyes. "It was all about you." He reached out and put a hand to her cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

"Tell me about it," she requested.

"I dreamt that I came home—to my apartment in Colorado Springs—and you were there waiting for me. (I'm assuming we were legally and lawfully wedded by this time.) You had this . . . _glow_ about you and a beatific smile on your face. You told me you were . . . pregnant. I'd never seen you so happy." He gazed into her eyes and said, "I wish that could happen tomorrow. I wish we didn't have to find a new world and pretend we're not married yet. I wish with all my _soul_ I could give you a child right now."

Tears filled Didi's eyes. "I know you do, Cam. I wish it could be that way, too. But the only way that would work is if we could find a Cam and Didi who are already married and who died in an accident or something, and take _their_ places. Only trouble with _that_ scenario is, we wouldn't know how to _behave_ like them. Their life together could be very different from the one you and I have planned for ourselves. They could have kids already—and it wouldn't matter whether they were adopted or their own, natural children: _we_ wouldn't have a bond with them. Like it or not, my love, we have to _wait_ for all the things we want. If it's worth having, it's worth waiting for . . . and it's worth doing right."

Cam kissed her on the forehead and said, "I know. You're absolutely right. 'To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven,'" he quoted. Then he sighed. "We'll find our time and our place soon enough. Unfortunately, patience never has been my strong suit."

He withdrew his hand from Didi's cheek and sat up. "Anyway, _my_ stomach's starting to complain now, too. Let's head to the cafeteria and see what we can whip up for dinner."


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22: DANIEL'S DECISION

Sam, Vala and Teal'c were already eating tacos when they arrived. Cam decided to join them. The shells and the fixings were still available for use in the food preparation area, which made it easy for him. Didi, however, was not a big fan of Mexican food. She opted to fry herself a hamburger. When it was done, she put it on a bun with her choice of condiments and teleported a bag of chips and a can of root beer to her spot at the table, carrying a paper plate with the burger on it as she walked there.

Cam was finishing his second taco by the time she arrived.

"Any idea where Daniel is?" Didi asked as she sat down across the table from her husband.

"No," Sam answered. "None of us have seen him for hours."

"Hm," said Didi as she took a bite of her burger. "I wonder . . ."

She closed her eyes and concentrated and a holographic projection of Daniel appeared in front of the group. _"If you're watching this," _said Daniel,_ "then I'm already gone. I programmed this projection to start up if anyone there started trying to find me, whether by physically looking for me or by using the Power to locate me._

"_I found a suitable Abydos at about two-thirty this afternoon and decided to leave by three. I obtained and put on the necessary clothes, made myself ten years younger, healed my eyes and got rid of my allergies so that I won't need glasses or antihistamines anymore, and now I'm ready to embark on my own personal journey to what will, I hope, be the perfect life and future for me._

"_But before I go, I wanted to tell the rest of you who are members of SG-1 how grateful I am that I've had the opportunity to get to know you and to work with you over the years. You've been great friends and wonderful companions, and I respect, admire and care for each and every one of you. _

"_Didi, I haven't known you very long, but I think I know you well enough to say that you truly are the most remarkable woman I've ever met. You've given me possibly the greatest gift I've ever received from anyone: a chance to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love and to protect her and her village from the Goa'uld for as long as I live. You didn't have to do that. There were other options open to you—to _**us**_. You have a kind heart, a romantic soul and a generous nature. Mitchell is a lucky man, as I've said before. _

"_Just to let you know, though, if things don't go as well as I hope they will, you may see me again before you and Mitchell take off on your own adventure together. But I don't seriously see any complications arising that I won't be able to handle, since you gave me the Power. I plan to use it wisely and discreetly. If you're concerned about me, you can always take a peek and see what I'm up to and how everything's going. But, unless it looks like I've screwed up in a major way and gotten myself killed and/or the village destroyed, please don't interfere. I need to do this on my own, which is why I left without consulting you. I double-checked all of the parameters before choosing the particular world to which I'm going, which means that Sha're and I should be able to spend the rest of our lives together in peace and safety. If something unforeseen should occur somewhere down the road and I end up losing Sha're somehow, I plan to teleport myself to ancient Egypt to live out the rest of my life there. _

"_Stargate Command will never again be a part of my life. I have no regrets, nor do I foresee ever having any. I will hold all of you in my mind and in my heart for as long as I live. I guess that's about it, so . . . goodbye, everyone. Take care of yourselves and try not to make Didi's life too difficult."_

The image disappeared. Everyone sat in stunned silence. Sam had tears in her eyes. Vala's were misty and she had a lump in her throat, but she held onto the thought that, in a few days, she could be with a Daniel of her very own. All she had to do was choose. . . .

"I hope he doesn't screw up," said Cam.

"So do I," said Didi. "Even though he's intelligent and resourceful and undoubtedly put a good deal of thought into everything he planned to do, I wanted him to consult with me, so we could double-check the parameters and the consequences of his actions before he left."

"What was his plan?" Sam asked.

"To destroy Ra, along with his ship and his Jaffa troops, to put a cloak and a force shield into place to protect the village from detection and destruction, and to bury the 'gate, so it can never be used again by anyone," Didi explained.

"He went back in time, then," Sam surmised, "which is why he made himself ten years younger."

"Probably," said Didi. "If he was unable to find a world where Sha're wasn't already married to some other man from the village—being the beautiful woman that she was—he would've had to've gone into the past."

The discussion of Daniel's plan and its possible repercussions for the universe to which he went continued for over an hour. Didi kept eating, looking thoughtful and pensive as Cam debated various issues with his colleagues. He'd been in on the discussions with Daniel; he knew what his wife's ideas were and which ones Daniel had liked best. And he knew Daniel Jackson well enough to figure out what the man might do in any given circumstance, since he had the Power to do just about anything he desired.

After Didi finished eating, she sighed and broke into the conversation that was going on by saying, "Why don't we just look and see for ourselves what he's up to? He said we could take a peek. If any of you don't want to see, then you can just leave."

Cam was taken aback. He'd never seen his wife quite so abrupt. "Didi . . ."

"I gave him the Power, Cam. I made what he's done possible. If it's bad, it's partly my fault. The fact that he didn't come to me and let me check things out before he left makes me think the Power might've overcome him to some degree after all. I hope it didn't, but you never can tell about people."

"I think you're wrong about that," said Cam, "but let's have a look, anyway—to ease your mind, if for no other reason."

"**Show us what our Daniel is doing on the Abydos he recently teleported to and in the timeframe to which he teleported**," Didi ordered.

"It looks like he's trying to calm the villagers and organize them," said Sam.

"He must have already destroyed Ra's ship and the explosion frightened them," said Vala.

"He certainly didn't waste any time," said Cam. "It might've been better if he'd waited a day or two before doing anything that rash. The villagers would be more likely to listen to him if they had more time to get to know him."

"Or," said Teal'c, "he should have waited until Ra prepared to leave Abydos to check on other worlds within his domain. If the ship exploded far enough above the planet—perhaps just as the hyper-drive was engaged—very little debris would actually achieve landfall and the village would be safe."

"Yeah, exploding it on the ground was a bit reckless," Cam agreed.

No sooner had the word "reckless" escaped Cam's lips than Daniel appeared in their midst. Didi instantly ended the holographic projection.

"I screwed up!" he said disgustedly, anger at himself evident in his face and eyes.

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "We were just watching the results of your first deed, Daniel Jackson."

"So, what _should_ I have done?" he asked, looking at each person in turn, but focusing, finally, on Didi.

"Teal'c thinks you should've waited 'til Ra left the planet to go to other worlds within his domain. You could've made the engines overload just as the ship's hyper-drive was engaged. If it was far enough above the planet, most of the debris would've burned up when it entered the atmosphere. You could easily have destroyed any pieces that might've slipped through."

"Of course," said Vala, "Ra would have left a number of Jaffa behind on Abydos to keep on eye on things there, and that might have been a bit more difficult to deal with in a discreet manner."

Daniel groaned and sat down in a chair near the group. "So, any suggestions?"

"Use that zat you sent for and take the Jaffa out one by one while the villagers are asleep," Cam suggested. "If you disintegrate the bodies, no one will know what happened to them."

"Be sure you're invisible, and put a cone of silence around yourself, too," said Didi, "so that the Jaffa won't see you coming, and the villagers won't hear the discharge of the zat if any of the Jaffa you _do_ shoot are standing guard near the village."

Daniel sighed. "Easy enough. I wish I'd thought of those things myself before I went."

"I told you to check with me before leaving, Daniel. I know you have a higher IQ than I do, but I have spent more time using the Power than you have and trying to do it clandestinely—particularly while we were still on Planet Max. If Gor-lak had suspected for even _one moment_ that he'd inadvertently given me the Power, there's no telling _what_ he would've done. The villagers on Abydos are a primitive and superstitious people. If Ra's ship explodes high above the planet and all of his Jaffa mysteriously disappear, what do you think they'll believe happened?"

"I don't really know," Daniel admitted.

"You could suggest that the Jaffa, alarmed by the destruction of their god's ship and not knowing what became of him, went in search of him," said Teal'c. "The desert would then swallow them up."

"The good thing about that explanation," put in Sam, "is that the Jaffa would disappear during the night. No doubt most would remain near the village as ordered, believing that Ra was indestructible and would return to Abydos in a very short time, since even system lords can't travel to other worlds without their ships—unless, of course, they use the 'gate. But (you could suggest to the people), when Ra didn't reappear after several hours, they decided to go and see if he might've gone to another village somewhere else on the planet."

"Or you could tell them that, since his ship was destroyed, he may have used the _Stargate_ to go to the other worlds he planned to visit," said Vala.

Daniel looked thoughtful and nodded. "Yeah, I could do that."

"I have another suggestion for you, Daniel," said Sam. "Rather than setting up a force shield and an invisibility cloak, why don't you try putting the village out of phase instead? With a force shield, any weapons fired at it will visibly bounce off of it, and if any Jaffa are ringed onto the planet after the 'gate is buried, they'd run into the force shield and know that it was there. On the other hand, if the village is out of phase, no weapons can hurt the people and no one from outside of the village will be able to see or hear them."

"Thanks, guys. Didi," he said, looking at her apologetically, "you were right. I should've consulted with you before going off the way I did. I'm sorry."

"Are you ready to try again now?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I think I'll wait until tomorrow. Whatever they're going through right now in that timeline, I can fix it then. I need time to ponder my mistake and decide how to do better next time. If I have to wait for Ra to leave the planet, I'd like to know how long that's going to take."

"You went into the past, didn't you, Daniel?" Didi asked.

"Yes, I did," Daniel replied. "Ten years into the past."

"Fixing it will be a little harder, then," said Didi. "You'll have to ask to see a time in 1998 when Ra took his ship and left the planet and find out what day and month it was on Earth. Then you can go back to that month, within a day or two of his departure, and wait for that opportunity to present itself. If you get there a few days beforehand, you can make friends with the people and give them a chance to get to know you."

Daniel nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. What do I do?—just ask to be shown what day and month it is on planet Earth?"

"Something like that, yes. Maybe you could ask to be shown a close-up of the front page of _The New York Times _or some other newspaper for that same day on Earth. You should be able to see the exact date on it. Since you've already made yourself younger, you'll age naturally and normally as you live out the rest of your life on Abydos. It won't matter that you'll be living through some years you've already experienced, since you won't be with SG-1 this time around."

"That's true," Daniel acknowledged with a nod. "Well, thanks for all the input and clarifications. I really am sorry that I went off so quickly without thinking things through more. I could've saved myself a lot of trouble if I hadn't been in such a hurry."

"Um, Daniel . . ."

"Yes, Didi?"

"Did Sha're like you?"

He nodded. "She seemed to, yes. She acted pretty much the same way the other Sha're did, as far as I can remember. It was quite a few years ago . . . ."

"Daniel," spoke up Sam, "I don't mean to rain on your parade but . . . won't going back _farther_ in time and destroying Ra's ship in space _then_ instead of on the ground in the timeframe you just left change your own destiny in that original timeframe?"

Daniel's brow furrowed. "It probably would, yes. Would that end up creating an alternate me?"

"Well," said Cam, "we all saw what happened when the original of my original went back in time to kill Ba'al. He got stuck back there and lived out his life in the past, while at the same time changing the timeline so that his alternate self didn't have to."

"But it did create another version of him," said Sam. "That's my point. If _this_ Daniel goes farther into the past and destroys Ra's ship before it enters hyperspace, the _other_ Daniel who went to Abydos this afternoon and blew the ship up on the ground will look at that world and see the results of what his other self did. And, if he looks closely, he'll find that other version of himself already there."

"But if he _doesn't_ look closely enough to see that I'm already there," put in Daniel, "and decides to go there himself, he'll find me there when he arrives and there'll be _two_ of us in the same place at the same time. Then, if he comes back here like I just did, a _third _one will end up being created."

"Hold it, hold it!" said Cam. "You're making my head hurt!"

Didi sighed. "I think there's only one sure way to fix this," she said. Everyone looked at her expectantly. "I'm going to have to go back to two-thirty this afternoon and stop Daniel from leaving."

Without another word, she put her fingers to her forehead, concentrated, and was gone.

She reappeared in Daniel's room at precisely two-thirty that same afternoon.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Daniel when she popped in. He was in the middle of making his holographic goodbye note. He paused it and asked, "What's up, Didi?"

"Shut that thing down completely. You're not going to need it. I have something very important to show you, Daniel," she told him.

"O-kay," he said hesitantly. He then shut down the holographic projection and faced Didi directly, his arms folded. He was _not_ happy. But he was curious. "What's going on?"

Closing her eyes, Didi said, "**Show Daniel the catastrophe that will occur if he goes to Abydos now and follows through with his current plan**."

A holographic projection appeared. Daniel's brow furrowed as he watched it. Didi studied his face. He paled as he saw the result of his handiwork. The Jaffa who were guarding the village assumed that the destruction of Ra's ship was an act of rebellion or terrorism and began to slay the villagers without regard for age or physical condition. Women, children, old and infirm . . . none were spared the wrath of Ra's Jaffa.

"End it!" Daniel said in anger and disgust. Didi made the command. It was her holographic projection. No one else could shut it off.

Daniel heaved a heavy sigh. "So, how do I fix that?"

"By not doing it at all." She then told him about the discussion that had taken place in the cafeteria before and after his reappearance.

"So, in order to prevent the mess I made before from happening, I have to go into the past sometime prior to my original arrival on Abydos and destroy Ra's ship just as the hyper-drive is engaged."

"That's the first item of business, yes," said Didi. "You should ask to see when in 1998 Ra left Abydos on board his ship—if he did. If he spent the entirety of 1998 on Abydos, then you may have to go back even further."

He sighed again. "What a pain that would be! But you're right: I am going to have to find a viable timeframe to go back to. I hope I won't have to go back _too _much farther, but if I do . . . oh well.

"I'll worry about all the rest of it afterward," he continued, "invisibility cloak and force shield versus being out of phase; how to explain the disappearance of all the Jaffa after the ship is destroyed . . . . But, if I decide to put the village out of phase as Sam suggested and other Jaffa _are_ ringed down to the planet and start looking for the village, the villagers would wonder why the Jaffa can't see them or hear them. That wouldn't be easy to explain, either."

Didi looked a bit sheepish. "I hate to add to your burden, but I have one more request _I'd_ like to make."

"Shoot. How much worse can it get?"

"Instead of having the 'gate buried, I'd like you to teleport it here, to this SGC."

"Why? What purpose would that serve?"

"I'd like Cam to contact General Hammond before he and I leave and tell him that there's a new 'gate in Cheyenne Mountain—if he and the President are interested in starting the program up again _without _having to involve the Russians."

"Getting rid of the Abydonian 'gate entirely would certainly make at least _one_ aspect of my life simpler: I wouldn't have to worry about anyone coming to Abydos through the 'gate ever again, and protecting the village from invaders in ships would be a whole lot easier if that was _all_ I had to do."

Didi nodded. "That's the other benefit of my plan to send the 'gate here."

After pausing for a couple of seconds, she said, "Listen, Daniel, in order to prevent nasty repercussions in the future I just came from, stay here in your room and don't come to the cafeteria any earlier than seven-thirty this evening. I left a few minutes before then, and I need to return at the exact moment I left. Anyway, if you come any sooner, the other you might still be there, and that would just confuse the issue."

"So, you think the timeline won't change until you return to where and when you came from?"

"Yes. That's the only way the cycle will be complete and not create a horrible paradox, a second me, or an alternate reality."

Daniel nodded. "Okay, seven-thirty it is, then. If I get hungry in the meantime, I'll teleport myself something from the pantry and eat it here. I don't wanna screw things up at all this time around." He gave her a wan, somewhat embarrassed smile. "Thanks for giving me this second chance to get it right."

"I did it as much for the Abydonians as I did for you, Daniel," she said. "They don't deserve to die like that."

"No, they don't. So . . . thanks again. I'll see you in a few hours."

Didi nodded, put her fingers to her forehead, and mentally sent herself back to the cafeteria at the exact moment she left. She was a bit disoriented when she rematerialized in her chair in the cafeteria, and she had a slight dizzy spell. It wasn't bad enough to be outwardly noticeable, however.

She didn't know what was going to happen, since she'd never before done any time traveling that had affected her own timeline directly. However, as she had told Daniel, now that she was back in the present and the cycle was complete, the change in the timeline should start catching up to her.

"Whoa, Didi!" said Cam, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her forehead. "You're not going anywhere! I don't want you screwing with the timeline, no matter what the consequences to . . ."

As if in slow motion, everything around Didi began to change. Cam's words began to fade away; Sam, Teal'c and Vala gradually disappeared, having evidently left the cafeteria when they'd finished eating, since the miscreant Daniel wasn't there to instruct and advise. The wonder to Didi was that she and Cam _were_ still there. What had _they_ been talking about for the past hour and a half?

"So, are you tired of waiting for Jackson yet?" Cam was asking her when the room and the timeline were solidified. "I know _I_ am. We've been sitting here for half an hour, just waiting, because you insisted that he'd be here at—"

"Seven-thirty," Daniel finished for him as he approached their table. "And here I am." He took a seat next to Cam and looked at Didi, winking at her meaningfully. She smiled at him.

"So, what've you been up to all day?" Cam asked him, still obviously annoyed that he'd had to wait around so long and he didn't really know why.

"Trying to decide the right time and the right way to destroy Ra and to protect the Abydonians afterward." He sighed. "You won't know this, Mitchell, since the timeline's been changed, but your wife came to see me this afternoon to stop me from going to Abydos at three o'clock and creating a major disaster there. She was very convincing: I didn't go. Didi told me a lot of things that were discussed, right here in the cafeteria, in a previous timeline—things that I needed to know in order to make informed and judicious decisions in regard to what I'll do when I go to Abydos _this_ time around."

Cam's mouth was open slightly. He stared at his wife in wonder and shook his head, unable to fathom the enormity of what he'd just been told and the repercussions of it. Words failed him. "So . . . what . . .?"

"Basically," said Daniel, "the timeline _began_ to change when I made the decision not to go to Abydos and repeat the mistake I'd made the first time around. But the change wasn't completed 'til Didi returned here to the cafeteria at the exact same moment she'd left. She had to be returned to her place in time before the change was complete, or she might've been lost . . . some-when." He looked at Didi and asked, "What happened when you returned, by the way?"

"Cam grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my forehead and told me not to screw with the timeline. He was in the middle of saying something about the consequences, when everything around me went into slow motion and began to change. By the time everything settled into place, Cam was asking if I was tired of waiting for you to show up—and then you did."

"So, it just kind of slowly dissolved from one reality to the other?" Daniel asked.

"Yes. It was almost like looking into a kaleidoscope while it's being turned and watching the pattern slowly change. Of course, with a kaleidoscope the patterns are random and you can stop turning it at any time. With the change in the timeline, though, it settled into what it _needed _to be."

"I feel cheated somehow," said Cam petulantly. "You guys know what happened in the previous timeline; I don't."

Daniel shook his head. "Neither do the others—and they never will. You asked a question and I answered it honestly. If you really wanna know what Didi told me and showed me, I'm sure that can be arranged." He sighed. "I'm not all that anxious for anyone else to know how badly I screwed up the first time around. It was a mess. Didi decided the best way to fix it was to make it so that it didn't happen at all. I can't tell you how grateful I am that she did."

"Believe me, Jackson, I won't think any less of you if I find out what you did that was so bad. All of us have messed up from time to time, which is why there are so many alternate universes."

"And that's what I was trying to prevent," said Didi. "If someone goes into the past to try to fix their _own_ mistake, it usually just compounds the problem. I figured the best way to get the job done was to keep Daniel from making the mistake in the first place. Fortunately, I was able to return at the same moment I left and wait for the change in the timeline to catch up to me."

"So, supposing the original Cam—the one who went back in time to kill Ba'al—had been able to return to the time and place where the symbiote was being removed from the Ba'al clone . . . Would the same thing have happened to him? Would the timeline have changed around him, like it did for you?"

Didi shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but . . . probably. Since he didn't have any way of getting back there, though, the timeline went on without him and the new timeline had another version of him."

"If Didi had, for whatever reason, lost her Chak-tuk Power while she was in the past with me and was unable to return here when she did," Daniel said, "she would've been stuck in the past, even though there was another one of her already there. Since there was only a difference of a few hours between the past and the present, it was fairly easy for the timeline to adjust itself slowly until she returned."

"If everything you said is true, you'd better not screw up again, Jackson, or so help me, I'll hogtie her and make you live with the consequences, no matter how dire—the Abydonians, too. No one should have the right to screw up that badly more than once—even putting other people's lives at risk (including my wife's)—and get away with it."

"Despite how hungry I got while waiting for seven-thirty to come, I made good use of the time," said Daniel. He looked at Didi. "I've made up my mind; I know what I'm going to do. However, I think I'd like to eat something first. I procured myself a box of Pop Tarts this afternoon and ate about three of them to tide me over, but . . ."

"What would you like for dinner, Daniel?" Didi asked.

"Don't you dare!" Cam said, shaking a finger at her. "He can get his own food! You've already done enough for one day."

"He's right," said Daniel. "Stay put. In fact, go on back to your room for now and I'll come to you when I'm ready. I may be here a while: I am _really_ hungry."

"Sorry to've kept you this long, then," said Didi. She pushed back her chair and stood up. "Shall we go to the gym and put in another ten minutes?" she asked her husband.

Cam shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

Didi took his arm as they exited the cafeteria, but he didn't crook his elbow or make any moves to return the show of affection. "Cam . . . please don't shut me out and pout like this!" She sighed. "If you really want to know what Daniel did that was so bad that I felt the need to fix it, I'll show you. The timeline may've changed, but the original one still exists in the infinite somewhere."

"How do you know that?"

She shrugged. "Since I still remember it, it _has _to exist—even if only in my mind. And if it's in my mind, I can create a projection of it."

Cam stopped in his tracks and turned to face his wife. "Then let's skip the gym for now and go to our room. I want you to show me _everything_, Dee—from start to finish. You're my wife, and I want to know and understand everything you've done since we've been together—even if it isn't relevant to the here and the now and this timeline. The fact that what you remember happened to _us_—not just to _you_—in the previous timeline is reason enough for me to want to see it. The others were gone Jackson turned up: the new timeline overtook them. They didn't hear about it; they don't need to know about it. _I_ do."

"Teleport us home, then," Didi said to her husband, gazing into his eyes and putting her hands on his shoulders. She smiled softly and hoped that the gesture of allowing him to take the lead would soothe his bruised ego a little. It did.

Cam smiled back at her, tenderness in his eyes. "I love you, Dee. That's why I need to know. I can't stand to be in the dark about _anything_ you do with your Power. If this whole thing comes back to bite you and Jackson in the backside later, I wanna be prepared and know the reasons why." He closed his eyes and concentrated. A second later, they were in their room.

They sat down on the bed together, side by side as always. Didi took a bite of her Milky Way before commanding that Cam be shown what had happened in the previous timeline, beginning with their arrival in the cafeteria for dinner that evening.

At Cam's request, she had it play at faster than normal speed, as he was afraid they'd still be in the middle of it by the time Daniel dropped in after he finished his dinner. It played slowly enough that they could still understand what was being said, but quickly enough to enable them to get through it with a little time to spare.

When it was over, Cam whistled. "Wow! That was a ride and a half."

"Do you understand now why I went?" Didi asked him.

"Yes, I do. Under the circumstances, if I'd been in your shoes, I would've done the same thing. I'm glad I didn't have time to stop you." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"Just don't say anything negative to Daniel about it. He feels badly enough."

"I'm sure he does."

There was a knock at the door. "That must be Daniel now," said Didi, smiling softly at her husband.

Cam released her and stood up. "I'll get it." Before opening the door, he looked back at his wife and said, "I love you, Dee." Then he turned the handle and opened the door.

"Hi, guys," said Daniel in his usual manner.

"Come on in, Jackson. Didi just finished showing me the previous timeline. I'm really glad she intervened."

"Yeah, so am I," said Daniel as he entered the room.

"So," asked Cam, standing next to Daniel, "how far into the past are you going?"

"About ten years and five months. Ra left Abydos in April of 1998 Earth-time—around the seventeenth or eighteenth, varying by Earth time zones. So I'm thinking about showing up in the village a couple of weeks before that." He frowned, his brow furrowed. "I'm not keen on living under Ra's rule for that long. If he were to have his Jaffa do something really heinous to one or more of the villagers, I'd be hard pressed not to interfere."

"I think any of us would be," commented Cam. "But you can't reveal yourself or your Power, no matter what. You'll just have to try to find a way to fix it—whatever it is—when no one's watching, and do it in such a way that Ra won't suspect the villagers of rebellion and subterfuge."

"Yeah, I know, and I've been giving that a lot of thought, too. If someone ends up dead, I could probably bring them back to life, but if I did, it'd be kind of hard to explain."

"Have you checked to see whether any of the villagers died during the two weeks prior to Ra's leaving the planet?" Didi asked.

"As a matter of fact, I did. There were a lot of . . . incidents. Only a couple of people were executed, but some were tortured for failing to follow orders correctly or in a timely fashion; while others were publicly whipped for various infractions, most of which were minor. I hate the idea of just sitting there, with all the Power I have, and not doing a blasted thing to help. Don't get me wrong: I understand the _need_ to not do anything, but that doesn't make it any easier."

"Have you decided how best to protect the villagers once Ra and his Jaffa have been dealt with?" Didi queried.

"I thought about taking Sam's advice and making the village out of phase, but then I realized that I could use my Power to wipe out every system lord in the galaxy with a single thought—the minor ones as well as the major ones."

"Isn't that taking things a little over the top?" Cam asked.

"Yes, and I realize it is. So I've decided to specify that only those system lords who have designs on Abydos be destroyed—and in the same way as Ra: their ships' engines will overload the moment their hyper-drives are engaged, causing them to explode-as Teal'c suggested in the previous timeline. I'll set up a similar program to annihilate any system lords who end up with designs on Abydos in the _future_. The moment the thought enters their minds of going to Abydos and checking it out for themselves (in the hope of finding people to enslave), the program will go into effect. When their hyper-drive is engaged, they'll explode."

Cam sniggered. "The Goa'uld may start having their hyper-drives checked out for manufacturing defects if that keeps up."

"They won't find any," said Daniel.

"Then they may suspect their Jaffa of sabotage and start torturing and killing them," said Cam.

"So much the better if it helps to bring about the Jaffa rebellion . . . which should be on the boil already—even without the SGC's interference. Bra'tak and Teal'c will undoubtedly be the chief instigators of it—especially if Apophus tries to come to Abydos and gets killed in the process."

"But what if Bra'tak and Teal'c are on board Apophus's ship when it explodes?" said Cam. "Did you think about that at all?"

"Yes, I did," Daniel assured him. "I'm going to add to the parameters that if either one or both of them are aboard Apophus's ship when he plans to go to Abydos they'll be automatically teleported home to Chulak before the hyper-drive is engaged and the ship explodes. Let them make of that what they will. They'll be alive and their false god will be dead."

"Maybe you should think about sparing the lives of _any_ of the Jaffa who no longer believe that the Goa'uld system lords are gods, so that the rebellion will have greater numbers," said Didi.

"Those that are aboard ships that are about to explode, anyway," clarified Cam.

Daniel sighed. "That would take careful planning and execution. I'd have to make the parameters very specific and enunciate the commands flawlessly. If I didn't, the repercussions could be serious."

"The question is," said Didi, "do you want to even _try _to do it?"

"If I could find a way, then, yes, I would. I've met a lot of good Jaffa over the years who were a great help to Bra'tak and Teal'c in the rebellion. Them I'd like to save."

"Then why not specify those particular Jaffa?" suggested Didi. She closed her eyes and concentrated. A legal pad and a ballpoint pen appeared in her hands. "Let's write down what parameters you're going to need in order to get the command right if you want to save certain Jaffa before destroying their Goa'uld masters."

"All right, let's," Daniel agreed.

"While you two are working on that," said Cam, going to the dresser and removing a pair of clean boxers and a T-shirt, "I'm going to take a long, hot soak in the tub. Call me if you need me for anything."

"Okay, love," said Didi, smiling at him as he left. "Now," she said to Daniel, "this is how you lay out parameters when you're going to make a complicated request."

"Why do you call it a 'request'?"

Didi shrugged. "It doesn't matter what you call it: a request, a command, an order . . . it's all the same thing. You're invoking the Power to do something you want it to do for you. I just used the word 'request' in this instance because it _felt_ better to me. My instincts often tell me what I should or shouldn't say or do when exercising the Power. Commands and orders, by their very nature, are generally short and don't require a lot of explanation or detail. But when you're going to do something complex and lengthy, it feels better to call it a request."

"I guess I see what you mean. Anyway, how do we lay out this whole rescue-the-Jaffa-before-destroying-their-Goa'uld-masters thing?"

"You begin with the basic command." Didi wrote it down. "(I'm not going to say it out loud because there's always the danger that it'll actually happen. Even _thinking about it _too strongly can make it occur.) Then you add on the necessary parameters to get the job done right. Think about everything you want to have happen by the time you're finished making your request and write them down, one by one—in order of importance, preferably."

Daniel took the paper and the pen from Didi and began to write. The wording was awkward at first, so he crossed things off and tried again until he was satisfied with his list and the wording of it.

"Just one more hint," said Didi. "After you make your initial command, add the phrase 'with the following parameters' and then enumerate them, one by one. After you've enunciated the last of the parameters, say 'make it so' or some other word or phrase of your choosing. Whatever you choose, it must be indelibly imprinted _in your own psyche_ as a _key word or phrase_ that indicates your command or request (or whatever) is complete and that you're ready for it to be initiated."

"How about if I just use the word 'initiate,' then?"

"Perfect. As long as you make your own psyche understand that when you say 'initiate,' you're ready for the request to take effect. I did that with 'make it so.' I always enjoyed hearing Captain Picard say that on _Star Trek: The Next Generation_, so I adopted it for use in my own circumstances.

"So much of the Power and how it operates seems to be connected to the psyche of the user. . . . I've learned a lot more about that since I've been here and have done so much just inside my head without speaking aloud. Certain ideas or desires are easier to _imagine_ than they are to vocalize, so when I visualize them in my mind and concentrate on them, I can make them happen. Imprinting your key word or phrase into your mind is important if it's going to work. You have to know—unequivocally—that when you say that key word or phrase, you're absolutely, positively ready for your command or request to be put into action. Complex things like this that you have written here are best done vocally. Too many words, phrases and ideas can clutter your mind and prevent the command from being clear cut and concise as it needs to be. The key word or phrase is like putting a giant period at the end to indicate that you're finished."

Daniel nodded. "I get it. Thanks for the explanation. I think I'll head back to my room now and work out the commands and attendant parameters for the _rest_ of the things I want to do—over time—on Abydos. Would it be all right if I take this tablet and pen with me?"

"Sure. I brought them here from the general's desk." She smiled. "I doubt he'll miss them."

"I'm going to say my goodbyes over breakfast in the morning," Daniel told Didi as headed for the door. "I'd like everyone to be there by eight, if possible. I'll let the others know before I and they retire for the night."

"See you in the morning at eight, then," said Didi. "Good luck with the rest of those commands. Let me know if you need any more help."

"How about you come to the cafeteria at seven-thirty instead of eight, so you can look over what I've written and critique it. If anything needs fixing, you can tell me _what_ does and how to do it."

Didi nodded. "Okay. I guess it's about time Cam and I started getting up earlier in the morning, anyway."

Daniel smiled. "I'll see you at seven-thirty, then." As his hostess opened the door for him, he added, "Thanks again, Didi—for everything."

"You're welcome," she responded with a smile of her own and then closed the door behind him.

"Did I just hear the closing of the door?" Cam asked.

"What? Oh, yeah. Daniel just left," Didi replied. "When did you open the bathroom door?"

"Just now. I waited until I was pretty sure Jackson had gone."

"Why?" Didi asked as Cam exited the bathroom, clothed in his clean underwear and drying his hair with his towel.

Cam tossed the towel into the bathroom and shrugged. "I don't know. I guess maybe . . . I get a little bit jealous when I see you interacting with other guys."

Didi smiled, ran to her husband, jumped up on him, and put her arms around his neck. He caught her and held her in place with her legs wrapped around his waist. "There's no reason for you to be jealous of _anybody_, Cam. You're the only man I will ever love—the only man I will ever give any part of myself to for the rest of my life."

He sighed. "I know that. I'm just . . . a little insecure and sometimes a little petty, too. I know I shouldn't be, but . . . there it is. Anyway, I'm still kind of peeved at Jackson for what he did before that required you to go back and change the timeline."

Didi gazed into his eyes, the smile gone from her face. "You can put me down now, Cam." Once she was on her feet, she placed her hands on his chest and said, "What happened, happened. It was a terrible thing, but I was able to help set it right. When Daniel saw it, he chose not to make that same mistake again. It was his decision. You've gotta give him credit for being open enough to listen and to see what he'd done wrong and to do his part to prevent it happening again. Forgive and forget, Cam. Don't let Daniel leave here—leave _us_, as a _group_ . . . forever—with animosity towards him in your heart and mind. Don't let your last thoughts of him before he leaves be negative ones."

Cam responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and saying, "I used to wonder why some men called their wives their 'better half.' Now I know. You are the best part of me, Dee. You're helping me to be a better man."

Didi put her arms around his neck again and he lowered his head and kissed her. "So, when's he leaving, then?" Cam whispered in her ear as he nibbled on it.

Didi squealed before saying, "He wants everyone in the cafeteria at eight in the morning so he can say goodbye, but he wants _me_ there at seven-thirty."

"What?" Cam pulled away abruptly and looked into his wife's eyes with renewed anger.

"Cam . . . if you don't calm down, I'm going to take the Power from you before you decide to do violence to the man." As Cam began to try to get his temper under control, Didi explained. "He wants me there early so that I can look over the commands he intends to use to protect the Abydonians. I'm going to make sure the wording is explicit and that all of the necessary parameters are in place. He wants to get it right this time—_all_ of it. He's trusting me to double-check his work, that's all."

"Oh," Cam said sheepishly.

"What? Did you think he wanted to be alone with me for half an hour so that he could do or say something . . . romantic?"

"Well, the thought did cross my mind. He's had his eye on you for a few days now."

Didi almost laughed. A slight titter escaped her. "He's going through all of this so that he can be with _Sha're_, Cam. He _cares_ about me, yes; they _all_ do—and I care about them, too. But you're the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with. You're the only one I could never bear to say goodbye to."

"Then, he'd have no objections if I went there at seven-thirty with you?"

"No, he wouldn't. He didn't _exclude_ you; he just didn't specifically _in_clude you. But when I said that it was about time you and I started getting up earlier anyway, he smiled. He didn't say you weren't invited or that he didn't want you there. He probably figured it was up to _us_—to you and me—to decide whether you're going to come with me that early or not."

"I guess I could get the coffee on while you two are consulting, then. It is about my turn to do it."

Didi nodded. "Yes, it is. And you can fix me a cup of hot cocoa while you're at it, if you would, please."

Cam smiled softly. "Anything for you, hun—you know that." He sighed and gathered her into his arms, holding her head against his chest. "I love you, Dee—maybe a little _too_ much." He kissed the top of her head. He then unwrapped his arms from around her, gently grasped her upper arms, pushed her back a little, gazed into her eyes and said, "Well, if we're going to get up and go to the cafeteria that early in the morning, we'd better make the most of tonight."

"I was just thinking the same thing. . . ."

Daniel was already dressed in Abydonian garb when Cam and Didi entered the cafeteria the next morning. He had the legal pad in front of him and a glass of V-8 Juice near at hand.

"Hi, guys! Good to see you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"Yeah, yeah," Cam mumbled. He headed for the coffeemaker.

As Didi sat down opposite Daniel, he pushed the legal pad toward her. She looked over each command he had written down and the numbered parameters adherent to the more complex ones. Nodding, she said, "You've done a good job here, Daniel. I can tell you really thought things out thoroughly and carefully. There's only one minor change I think you should make to this parameter here: change the word 'destroy' to 'disintegrate.' It's more specific, and thus less likely to create problems or messes."

Daniel nodded. "You're right. But, since that was one of the last ones I wrote . . ."

"You were tired by the time you got to it, I understand."

"I'm glad you caught that, though. It could've been _really _messy—or completely ineffectual—if the Power didn't know what I meant by 'destroy.'"

"You'd have to picture the type of destruction you want in your mind," said Didi, "so you'd have to already have one picked out."

"I guess disintegration is as good as any." He made the change on the paper.

Cam, having put the coffee on to brew, approached his wife with a cup of hot cocoa, sat down beside her and placed the mug in front of her. "So, how did he do?" he asked her.

"(Thanks, Cam!) I only had him make one minor word change. He's ready."

"Have you asked him about the Egyptian dig sites yet?"

"What Egyptian dig sites?" Daniel queried.

Didi told Daniel about the versions of himself who existed in alternate universes where the Stargate was never discovered on Earth (due to Ra's absconding with it) and asked him if there was a viable site somewhere in Egypt where they might hide the Stargate from Antarctica along with its DHD, so that they would be discovered sometime in the latter end of the twentieth century—preferably sometime during Daniel's adulthood.

Daniel ripped a page from the legal pad and wrote down on it the dates and places of Egyptian archaeological dig sites that would make viable hiding or burial places for a Stargate and a DHD. There were only two.

"That's not entirely surprising," said Cam. "Most of the bigger tombs, temples and whatnot were probably discovered decades before _you_ reached adulthood, Jackson."

"Yeah, they were. This one would be your best bet, I think," he said, tapping one with his finger.

"Bawit?"

"Yeah. It's also known as Al-Bawiti. A necropolis of sorts was found there in the mid '90s. It's huge. Not even all of the _mummies_ have been uncovered there yet. I'd check it out with a holographic projection first, though, just to be sure that there's an area in there that's actually big enough to hold a Stargate and a DHD."

Didi nodded. "Thanks. I'll do that—if Vala chooses that scenario."

"FYI, I probably would've been involved in the excavation of that site, once it was discovered, if I hadn't already been ensconced in the Stargate program."

"Really? I didn't see any indication that—"

"You never saw any alternate Daniel Jacksons working a dig site?"

"Well, yes, we did, but . . . Vala thought it looked boring."

Daniel sighed. "Of course she did."

"But, if the 'gate is found at one of those locations where there's a Daniel Jackson already excavating . . ."

Daniel nodded. "He could get in on the ground floor. But Vala would need to go back in time a bit and get in on the dig at least six months before the 'gate's discovered, or she might be left out of the important events that follow."

Didi nodded. "I understand. I'll explain that to her if she decides she wants to go to a time when the dig has already begun."

"You two can work out those details later," said Daniel impatiently. "You wanted sites, I gave them to you. What you do with them is entirely up to you." He looked up. "Ah! Here comes the rest of the gang." He smiled.

"Hi, guys!" he said perkily.

"Coffee's on," said Cam, getting up to go get some.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we could smell it when we walked in. Hi."

"So, what were the three of you doing here before the rest of us?" Vala queried.

"I asked Didi to come early so that she could take a look at the parameters of the commands I'm going to give to protect Abydos. I don't wanna screw up and blow everybody to kingdom come."

"With the exception of the Goa'uld, of course," said Teal'c.

"Of course," Daniel averred, getting to his feet. "If you'll all excuse me, I think I'll go get a cup of that coffee Mitchell prepared: it'll probably be the last cup I'll ever have." He looked somewhat melancholy. "Oh, well," he sighed. "Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the ones you love."

"Tell me about it," said Cam, taking a sip of his own coffee.

Didi smiled. "I told him I hate the smell of beer, so he's giving it up—mostly, anyway."

"Oh, gee, what a sacrifice," Daniel said sarcastically as he turned and headed toward the coffeemaker.

Sam, Vala and Teal'c had returned with their own cups by this time.

Once the entire group was seated, Daniel—absentmindedly turning his coffee mug around in his hands—said, "I've asked you all to come here this morning so that I could say goodbye. I'm heading to Abydos in just a few minutes. I intend to arrive at Sha're's village at first light—just in time for breakfast, so I won't be eating anything before I leave.

"I'm going back in time to early April of 1998, Earth-time. Ra will be leaving Abydos in his mother ship around the seventeenth or eighteenth of that month, and I'd like to be well ensconced in the village before then. I intend to use my Power to cause the ship's engines to overload (and then to explode) the moment the hyper-drive is engaged. I will then do whatever is necessary to protect the villagers from the Jaffa who're left on the planet and any other system lords who may attempt to take Ra's place on Abydos. Didi has requested that I teleport the Stargate here—to this SGC—rather than having the villagers bury it, so that General Hammond can get the program up and running again if he wants to. I like that idea, so I want to do it. I'm just not sure exactly how."

"I've been doing some thinking about that, Daniel," spoke up Didi. "Since the Power can be used through time and space, why don't you request that it arrive here tomorrow, September twenty-fourth, 2008? We'll wake up in the morning, go to the Gate Room, and . . . hopefully, it'll be there."

Daniel nodded. "Sounds like a good idea. But I'm going to have to figure out the parameters for _that_ before I do it, too. It shouldn't be too difficult, though.

"Anyway," he paused, swallowing the last of his coffee and setting the mug down, "I guess it's time I left. I'd just like to say that I care a great deal about each and every one of you. I've enjoyed associating with the four of you—my colleagues—over the years, and I'm going to miss you more than you can imagine . . . even if our association has been primarily in memory only—except for the last few days, of course, and they've been _very_ memorable.

"Didi, thanks for everything. Without you, none of this would be possible. Hopefully I won't screw up again, but if I do . . . I promise I'll stay and clean up my own mess this time, whatever it takes."

Having finished his speech, Daniel got to his feet, ripped from the legal pad the pages of commands he had written that he was going to use on Abydos, folded them and slid them into a hidden pocket within his cloak. He then closed his eyes and said, "**Teleport me to the Abydos I viewed yesterday, with the following parameters: one, take me to the outskirts of the village inhabited by Sha're and her family; two, make certain that I'm out of sight of any villagers or of any Jaffa who might be standing guard; three, let me arrive at first light on the second of April 1998, Earth-time. Initiate**." An instant later, he was gone.


	23. Chapter 23

_**(The Tai-Re Federation, introduced in this chapter, belongs to me. Please do not use it without my permission.)**_

CHAPTER 23: VALA

Vala began to weep. She jumped up from the table and ran out of the cafeteria.

Cam sighed. "That was predictable."

"Shall I go . . .?" Didi asked.

Cam and Sam both shook their heads. "Not yet," said Sam.

"Give her a little time, hun," Cam advised. "Now that Jackson's gone, she might decide to make her own choice sooner than she'd planned. If she does, she'll come to you when she's ready."

Didi nodded but bit her lip. Vala's pain was plainly manifest. Didi hoped she could find a Daniel who'd fall for her quickly. If she spent months cultivating a relationship that didn't bear fruit, it would be even _more_ painful for her than losing the Daniel she had grown to love over the past few years.

"I'm not really feeling very hungry myself right now," she said, pushing back her chair. "I think I'll go back to our room for a while and do some thinking."

"Dee . . ."

"I know, Cam, I know. But I can't help it; I _feel_ for Vala, I really do. No matter how similar they may be in personality and character, a substitute Daniel won't be the same as this one. She loves _him_. The experiences they shared are a part of what her love grew out of," Didi said, shaking her head, "and that's not something that's going to be easily duplicated." She sighed. "I'm going to walk back. I feel like I _need_ a good walk."

"I could help. . . ." Cam offered.

Didi nodded. "Soon. Eat breakfast and then come to our room. I'll talk to you then."

Vala was waiting for Didi when she got to the general's quarters.

"Hi!" Didi said in surprise. "I didn't expect to find you here—at least, not so soon. Come on in," she said, opening the door.

"I don't know if I can do this, Didi," said Vala, wiping tears from her face and eyes with the back of her hand.

"Do what?" Didi asked, ushering her friend into the room and inviting her to sit down, "—live without Daniel?—or try to find another one to love?"

"Either one—or both."

Didi nodded. "I know. After Tad left me when he learned I couldn't have children, I didn't think I'd _ever_ fall in love again. Once I got past the worst of the pain, though, I _wanted_ to find someone new. But I was scared of making another mistake." She smiled wanly. "Then I dropped into Cam's life, out of the blue—literally—and my whole life changed."

"But Colonel Mitchell is _not_ another Tad. How would you have felt if you were offered another version of _him_?"

"There's a big difference, Vala: Tad and I were married; on top of that, we dated for years before we _got_ married. We made vows and promises to each other that Tad broke just because I was incapable of having children. You and Daniel have never had that intimate of a relationship. With an alternate one, you might have that chance."

"I'm not entirely sure I want one anymore."

"I thought you might feel that way, which is why I came back here: I wanted time to think. All those classes in child psychology I took haven't gone entirely to waste. . . ."

"Are you implying that I'm behaving like a child?"

"Everyone does from time to time, but, no, that's not it. But basic psychology works the same for everyone, no matter how old they are."

"So, what's your advice, then?"

Didi shook her head. "I don't know; but I do have a thought. You love Daniel because of who is now, right?—the man that he's become because of what he's gone through over the years that he's been with SG-1."

"Yes."

"Are those the same qualities that attracted you to him in the first place?—when you met aboard the _Prometheus_?"

"Primarily, yes."

"Then you don't need a geek to guide and mentor; and you certainly don't need a dark, brooding, and depressed Daniel to rescue. What you need is the one we saw earlier: the one whom General O'Neill allowed to go to Atlantis from the get-go. As we saw, he wasn't on board _Prometheus _when that world's version of you hijacked it, so he never met her—and neither did anyone else from the SGC."

"You're right," said Vala, "that one probably would be my best bet. So how could we arrange for me to meet him under favorable circumstances?"

"I have an idea that would require your being found by SG-1, alone and abandoned on a planet somewhere. But . . . you'd have to behave in a more . . . _subdued_ manner than usual."

"I could probably do that, but . . . just how subdued am I going to have to be?"

"I'd like to show you something, Vala." Didi closed her eyes and concentrated and said, "**Show us how the relationship between Vala and Daniel developed when they were on board **_**Odyssey**_** while the ship was stuck in a time dilation field for fifty years**."

"You mean, Daniel and I—"

"Just watch."

"I always suspected—and hoped," Vala admitted after seeing how it began, "but when Teal'c chose not to say anything . . . Anyway, did it last?"

"**Show us what their relationship was like by the end of the fifty years**."

There were fresh tears in Vala's eyes. "We really did . . . _love_ each other."

"So, you see? It is possible."

"Then why didn't he—"

"Probably because, if you'd been on Earth, he knew you could run off at any time and leave him if you decided you'd had enough. Up there in space, the worst you could do is avoid him for the duration, and that would've been uncomfortable to say the least.

"But the point is, it took _tears_ to bring him around, Vala. He had to see your vulnerable side and he had to know that you were sincere."

"So, if SG-1 found me alone and vulnerable on a planet somewhere, they'd likely take me back to Earth and find a place for me."

"Probably. And if you told them that you were once the host to Qetesh, they'd be even _more_ sympathetic—especially Daniel, since Sha're was host to Amaunet."

"They'd probably contact the Tok'ra and ask them if it's true that they removed the symbiote."

"Probably, so you'd have to be sure of the timeline and have a believable back story as to where you've been and what you've been doing since the symbiote was removed."

"If I were to go back to about six months after the symbiote was removed, that would've given me plenty of time to go 'home' (such as it was) and to spend time with friends and family before heading back out into space. Of course, when SG-1 finds me, I'd have to've been doing something other than . . . what I _used _to do. . . . Any suggestions?"

"Ah, ladies!" said Cam, opening the door and walking into the room. "Together already, I see."

"Vala was waiting for me when I got here," Didi explained.

"Come up with anything yet?" Cam asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to his wife.

"We were just working on it," Vala answered.

Didi explained her idea and then Vala repeated her question. "Any suggestions as to what my occupation might've been, that would cause me to've been abandoned, alone and defenseless, on an alien world somewhere?"

"Hm," said Cam, rubbing his chin pensively. "How about this: you hired on as a medic or healer aboard a freighter of some kind (you can decide which race or alliance) using a Goa'uld healing device, and when the freighter was attacked and boarded, you got into an escape pod and ended up on the planet where SG-1 found you?"

Vala nodded semi-enthusiastically. "That could work. If they were to take me back through the 'gate themselves, under heavy guard, and _keep_ me under guard until they check out my Qetesh story with the Tok'ra, I could probably get a job at the SGC—perhaps in the infirmary as a healer. It could take some time, but I _might_ be able to win Daniel over. . . ."

"We'll have to provide you with a hand device and an escape pod that came from some kind of a freighter," Didi pointed out. "And if we can find one somewhere, the type of pod would almost certainly determine what race or alliance ran the ship, wouldn't it?" she asked.

"Not necessarily," said Cam. "The way traders interact with one another out there in space, stolen pods can come from anywhere. A lot would depend on how _legitimate_ a firm Vala wants to become employed with."

"If I'm going to win Daniel's respect, it had better be a fairly reputable one," Vala said.

"But not one that's so tough it would never be attacked," Cam said.

Vala snapped her fingers. "I have an idea: the Tai-Re Federation. They have a really good reputation: no cheating or underhanded dealing. But their resources are somewhat limited, and they have been boarded and hijacked from time to time because they carry valuable, legitimate commodities."

"Why are their resources limited?" Didi queried.

"Because they _are_ legitimate. The Tai-Re Federation uses only its own people. They won't hire mercenaries or other 'guns for hire' (as you earthlings call them), which makes them vulnerable to attacks from those who _do_ hire them. It's a perfect set-up for someone like myself who's supposed to be trying to escape her past and all the awful things she did while possessed by Qetesh."

"You know. . . " said Didi thoughtfully, "you could go back to that time and actually hire on to a Tai-Re Federation vessel as a medic within days or, if necessary, weeks prior to a hijacking. . . . If you know in advance when the hijacking's going to take place, you can arrange to be in the escape pod and jettison it at just the right time."

"But the pod could end up _anywhere—_on a planet with a hostile environment, or even on one that doesn't have a Stargate. Then what?" Vala asked. "Finding a world with an operational Stargate that has no hostile creatures of any kind living anywhere near the 'gate and which will be visited by SG-1 in less than a year after the removal of my symbiote could be problematical enough without trying to locate one on which the escape pod from a Tai-Re Federation vessel might land."

"She does have a point," Cam said to his wife.

"Let's see what we can find before we give up on the idea completely," said Didi. "We know the parameters . . . let's look for them. If we can't find a planet that satisfies all three, we'll settle for best two out of three and be done with it."

"All right," said Vala with a sigh.

"Listen, Dee," said Cam, "why don't you go back to the cafeteria and have some breakfast while I help Vala look for a viable world she can crash land her escape pod on."

Didi nodded. "All right, if you think you can actually do it. . . . I mean, you've never done anything that complex before. . . ."

"Don't you think it's about time I tried?" He gave her a look that made her feel guilty for even suggesting that he couldn't do it.

She nodded again. "Okay, but . . . if you run into trouble . . ."

"I'll teleport you back here, lickety-split." He smiled and winked at her.

Didi sighed, stood up, kissed her husband on the cheek and said, "Good luck, then." Before leaving the room, she looked at Vala and said, "I hope you find something that works." She waved goodbye as she closed the door behind her.

When Didi returned to the room an hour later, Vala was pacing the floor, her arms folded in front of her, shaking her head. "No, no, it's no good. It just won't _work_."

Cam sighed. "Hi, hun," he said to his wife. "I'm afraid putting Vala on board a Tai-Re Federation vessel for real is going to be difficult. We haven't been able to locate a planet anywhere (within the given timeframe) that would be a viable landing spot for the escape pod. We could manage it in a different, _later_ time frame, but not within a year of the Qetesh symbiote having been removed."

"Okay then, let's go with a later timeframe," suggested Didi. When she heard Vala sigh with discouragement and frustration, she said, "Look, Vala, I know you'd like to give Daniel as much time as possible to get to know you by going back as far as you can while remaining within established time parameters, but . . . I really think it'd be a good idea to legitimize your claims, so that if whoever is in command of the SGC at the specified time in the alternate universe decides to do a thorough check of your story and contacts the Tai-Re Federation, he'll be told that, yes, you _did_ hire on as a medic on one of their freighters. I know it's a pain, but we have to cover all of our bases."

"Yes, I understand that, but . . . I really was hoping to find something in the earlier timeframe. I suppose, since that's not possible, we'll have to look for a _later_ time and hope that we find something that meets the other two criteria. But . . . there's something else you really should know: I _hate _escape pods. As often as I've had to use them to make a quick getaway, I detest them. If there's any way at all that I can avoid that particular pitfall, I'd be most grateful."

Cam looked at his wife. "We could go there with her for a short while and help her escape pod to land on the necessary planet. . . ."

"You mean, use the Power to bring it down in the right place at the right time?" Didi asked.

"Yeah."

"But not with me aboard, please!" Vala begged.

"So, one of us teleports _her_ to the planet, while the other teleports the pod?" Cam suggested.

Vala smiled. "Now, I _like_ that idea!"

Didi sighed. "Okay. Let's make a list of the necessary parameters for the planet on which SG-1 will find Vala and see what we can come up with." She closed her eyes, and the legal pad and pen Daniel had left on the table in the cafeteria appeared in her hands.

"First parameter," said Cam helpfully, "is that it has to be a world within the boundaries of the Tai-Re Federation." Didi wrote it down.

"Second parameter," Vala added, "is that it has a working Stargate and an intact DHD . . . or maybe that's two parameters in one."

"It'll work as one," said Didi, nodding and writing it down. "And for the third parameter, it needs to be a world that SG-1—with Daniel Jackson included—went to sometime within the past . . . how many years would you say, Vala?"

"Let's say five, just to be on the safe side." Didi wrote that down.

"And fourth," said Cam, "is that it should, if possible, be free of any dangerous life forms within, oh, let's say . . . a mile of the Stargate."

"Sounds good," said Vala nodding.

Didi wrote it down. "Anything else either of you can think of?" she asked. Cam and Vala both shook their heads. "All right, then. Let me see . . ." She wrote out the general command on a clean sheet of paper, crossing it off a time or two until she felt she had the wording just right. Then she concentrated her thoughts as she read from the two sheets of paper: "**Checking only those universes within the multi-verse in which Vala Mal Doran has never met Dr. Daniel Jackson, show us a planet that meets the following parameters: first, it exists—and has existed—within the known boundaries of the Tai-Re Federation for at least five years; second, it has an intact Stargate and a fully operational DHD; third, it was visited by SG-1—including Daniel Jackson—at some point during the past five years; and fourth, it is free of any dangerous life forms within at least a one mile radius of the Stargate's location. Make it so**."

A holographic projection appeared. Didi pulled her Milky Way from her pocket and took a bite.

"It looks like dozens of worlds SG-1 has visited," said Cam. Vala agreed.

"I'll have to try to pin it down, then," said Didi. "But first . . . ." She closed her eyes and said, "**Show us a Tai-Re Federation freighter that was attacked in this same region of space within the past five years**." The image appeared in split-screen, alongside that of the planet.

"The _Tornang_," Vala read from the hull of the spaceship.

Didi then moved her hands as though she were motioning members of a choir to be seated, while simultaneously saying, "**End**." Both projections instantly disappeared.

Cam took over. "**Show us the front page of **_**The New York Times**_** on the exact date that the freighter **_**Tornang**_** was attacked**." When the requested newspaper appeared, Cam read, "Sunday, May 15, 2005." The projection summarily vanished.

"**Show us the front page of **_**The New York Times**_** on the day that SG-1 visited the planet we most recently viewed**," said Didi. "Monday, May 16, 2005. The very next day! Vala, isn't that great? You won't have to be alone on the planet all that long!" Her projection, too, had quickly disappeared.

"Even one day is longer than I'd like," Vala grumbled. "It means eating rations and drinking water from a canteen—if I'm lucky."

Didi sighed. "We'll deal with that problem later." She closed her eyes and said, "**Show us SG-1 prior to their leaving Earth to visit the planet most recently viewed, including any dialogue relative to the planet's alpha-numeric designation**."

The trio watched and listened. "P3S 894," said Cam.

After writing the planet's alpha-numeric designation on the tablet, Didi ended the projection and said, "Now that we have an alpha-numeric designation for the place, it'll be easier to set things up there for Vala; and we won't have to keep saying 'the planet most recently viewed' over and over again."

"Yep," Cam agreed, "which means that all we have to do now is find out where the _Tornang_ left from and when, so we can teleport Vala there to start with."

"Then what? How does the time differential work?" Vala asked.

"You'll have to live through however much time passes between signing on to and escaping the _Tornang_," Didi said. "But _here_ we'll be able to go forward immediately to the day of the attack, pull you and the escape pod off the ship and teleport both you and it to an area that's within walking distance of the Stargate on P3S 894."

"I have a feeling that it _sounds_ easier than it's actually going to be," said Vala. "How long am I going to be stuck on board that ship before it gets attacked?"

"**Show us the front page of **_**The New York Times**_** on the day the Tai-Re Federation freighter **_**Tornang—**_**in the alternate universe we've been examining—left dock in the spring of 2005 and headed out into space**," Didi commanded.

"May 12," Cam observed. The projection disappeared as he said, "Looks like three days in space before the attack and one day on the planet before SG-1 comes to the rescue."

"For them to be in space that long, they must be making a lot of stops within their own domain," said Vala. "It doesn't cover that large of an area—no more than two dozen inhabited worlds, if that."

"I hope that at least one of those planets is inhabited by humans," said Cam, "since you said they never hire anyone but their own people. Will you be able to pass yourself off as one of them?"

"I was speaking primarily of _crew members_ when I said they only hire their own people. Medics are much harder to come by, and therefore generally accepted—as long as they're certified and _appear_ to be upright and honest," Vala told him.

Didi went to work again. "**By using the front page of **_**The New York Times**_**,**_** s**_**how us the latest date that Vala Mal Doran would have been able to sign on for duty aboard the **_**Tornang**_** in the alternate universe we've been viewing if she wished to get a post as a medic on the May 12, 2005 freight run**."

"May 10," Vala read, just before the projection ended. "Two days before departure."

"Chances are, if you got there any later than that, the post would already be taken," said Cam, "which is probably why it's the _latest_ date possible for _you_."

Vala sighed. "I think I'm getting a headache."

"So am I," moaned Didi, rubbing her temples.

"Well, now that we've worked out most of the details," said Cam, "why don't we take a break? When you're ready to finish up, let us know, Vala. Right now," he yawned, "I could use a nap."

Vala nodded. "All right. I'll see you at lunchtime, then."

When the trio met up again in the cafeteria sometime between noon and twelve-thirty, Vala was almost afraid to ask them if they thought they could send her to her new life after lunch. But she braved it as she sat down across from them while they ate fresh garden salads with their favorite dressings.

"I thought you were feeling reluctant," said Cam with slightly raised eyebrows.

"Yes, well, I went to the gym, put on boxing gloves, and clobbered the stuffing out of a punching bag. It made me feel much better overall." She sighed. "I know it's going to take a lot of work: procuring a Goa'uld healing device; sending me where and when I need to be to sign on as a medic aboard the _Tornang_; and then, after it's hijacked, teleporting me and an escape pod from the _Tornang_ to P3S 894."

Didi shook her head. "All of that is nothing. What we figured out this morning . . . now _that_ was the hard part."

"I suppose so."

"Believe me," said Cam, "it was."

"Getting you a Goa'uld healing device probably won't be difficult," said Didi. "Since all the system lords are gone now, there should be any number of them available . . . in _our_ universe at least. But we're also going to have to get you a proper outfit. Before we can, though, we'll have to see what type of clothing was acceptable for a professional woman in the Tai-Re Federation three years ago."

"They'll probably give you some kind of uniform once you get aboard ship," said Cam. "But you will need something of your own to wear before you report for duty."

"Oh, I'm not at all worried about that," declared Vala. "I could probably get away with wearing an SGC uniform, as long as it doesn't have patches or insignia on it."

"What kind of SGC uniform?" Cam queried. "Or should I ask: what _color_?"

"Probably the black," said Vala. "It's more professional-looking than the blue, and less likely to be mistaken for military gear than the olive drab or any with a camouflage pattern."

Didi nodded. "We'll take a look and see if that type of outfit would work. As long as we can tell that it wouldn't stand out and cause heads to turn and eyebrows to rise, we'll go ahead and let you wear one of those."

"You're planning Vala's escape now?" Sam asked, as she sat down beside Vala with a bowl of steaming hot tomato soup and a ham and cheese sandwich.

"Yes, we are," said Cam.

Teal'c took a seat across from Sam and next to Cam, setting a plate containing a large burrito on the table in front of him. "Perhaps you would like to share the details of Vala Mal Doran's new home and life with Colonel Carter and myself," he said.

"You two tell them," said Vala, "while I go get myself something to eat. I never did have breakfast, and I'm _starving_."

After Cam and Didi finished explaining their plan to Sam and Teal'c, Sam reiterated everything, just to clarify and to be certain that she understood correctly. "So, you're going to send Vala back in time to May 10, 2005, to whatever _place_ she needs to go, in order to sign on as a medic aboard a Tai-Re Federation freighter called the _Tornang_, which will leave space dock on May 12 and will be hijacked on May 15. At the time of the hijacking, you'll teleport Vala and an escape pod from the ship onto the planet designated by Stargate Command as P3S 894, where she will be discovered the next day (May 16, 2005) by SG-1, and, hopefully, will attract favorable attention from Daniel."

"Yep, that's about it in a nutshell," said Cam. "From what we saw of SG-1 before they left the SGC, it was only the three of you."

Sam nodded. "General O'Neill was in command of the SGC then, and he refused to add anyone else to the roster. He didn't think we needed a fourth member."

Cam's brow furrowed. "I wonder what they did in this alternate universe while Jackson was on Atlantis. (From what Didi's told me, in this target universe, Jackson and Vala never met because General O'Neill allowed Jackson to go to Atlantis with the original expedition, so he wasn't on board _Prometheus_ when Vala hijacked it. That being the case, he must've returned to Earth after _Prometheus_ was recovered by SG-1 and General Hammond finally took the ship to Atlantis and brought him back.) So, who was the third member of SG-1 while Daniel was on Atlantis?"

"Probably that other archaeologist . . . what was his name?—Rothman?—that General Hammond was _planning_ to assign to SG-1 if Daniel was able to save Sha're and return to Abydos with her," opined Sam.

"I don't know anything about Rothman, but I have a feeling he would've been an okay substitute for Jackson in the _early_ days, but certainly not by '05," said Cam. "By that time, Jackson knew his way around weapons and had had some hand-to-hand combat training. It would've taken _two _people to fill Jackson's shoes while he was on Atlantis. It's no wonder _our_ General O'Neill wouldn't let him go."

"Why don't we take a look and see?" Didi suggested, as Vala approached the group with a plate of macaroni and cheese and a glass of Hawaiian Punch.

"What are we taking a look at?" Vala asked as she sat down next to Didi.

"Who was on SG-1 while your target Daniel Jackson was on Atlantis," said Cam.

"Oh. Okay."

"It's not a big deal," said Sam. "We're just curious."

Didi concentrated and said, "**Show us SG-1 in the alternate universe we have most recently been viewing, with the following parameters: first, it should be sometime in late February, 2005; second, SG-1 should be preparing to embark through the Stargate; and third, it should be the **_**complete team**_**, as constituted at that time. Make it so."**

"Wow," said Sam. "He _did _bring in Dr. Rothman . . . and it looks like he got Major Lorn in exchange for Daniel. (I guess Dr. Weir and Colonel Shepherd must have wanted Major Lorn back when Daniel returned to Earth.)"

"A decent enough team," said Cam, "although, as I said, I don't really know a lot about Rothman. But if he was along strictly for the cerebral stuff, he probably didn't go on every mission."

"I agree," said Sam. "If the others found anything interesting, they would've contacted the SGC and asked that Dr. Rothman be sent through to have a look."

"**End it**," said Didi. Then she asked, "What's Major Lorn like?"

"He is a capable officer and a proficient warrior," said Teal'c.

"He's an Air Force pilot, like me," qualified Cam, "—and a darned good one from everything I've heard about him. But Sam would know best of all, since she was in command of Atlantis for a year."

"You were?" Didi asked in surprise. "No wonder you know so much about the Wraith."

Sam nodded. "It was quite an experience; and, yes, I got to know Major Lorn pretty well. He's a good man to have on your side. With him and Dr. Rothman together I'm sure SG-1 managed quite nicely without Daniel."

"No doubt O'Neill ordered Daniel Jackson to return," Teal'c said, "because he . . . missed him."

Sam nodded. "Daniel was always like a little brother to Jack—a very_ annoying_ little brother, but a little brother nonetheless. No one was more upset than Jack was whenever Daniel died or disappeared."

"They must've had quite an interesting relationship," Didi said thoughtfully.

"They did," Sam averred. "They still do. They don't see as much of each other now that General O'Neill is head of Homeworld Security; but when they do get together, you can see how much they really care about each other."

"Like when Jackson became an Ori Prior and nobody knew whether he could be trusted or not," Cam said. "General O'Neill came in and chatted with him like it was Old Home Week. They really seem to understand each other on a level that I haven't seen between very many people."

"So, General O'Neill is still in command of the SGC in this alternate universe I'm going to be going to, since it's only 2005?" Vala queried.

"Yes, he is," said Cam. "I saw him when we were listening for the alpha-numeric designation of the planet we're sending you to. He was in the control room with Walter."

"I haven't had much opportunity to get to know General O'Neill," said Vala. "But from what I have seen and heard of him, he's not at all like General Landry—not that General Landry is cross or mean or anything like that, but . . . General O'Neill seems almost . . . _giddy_ by comparison."

"You've never had the opportunity to really see him in action," said Sam. "If there's nothing serious going on, then, yes, Jack O'Neill is a fun, funny and fun-_loving _guy. But when he's in charge, or if there's danger, or if something critical is happening, he's a force to be reckoned with."

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c. "The first time I encountered O'Neill, I was quite impressed by his attitude and bearing. He seemed confident of achieving his goals. O'Neill is not a man who gives up easily, no matter how hopeless the situation may at first appear."

"Just play it by ear with General O'Neill," Sam told Vala. "If he's feeling silly and joking around a little, it's okay to laugh—if you feel so inclined. Sometimes his jokes don't come off quite right and . . . it can be embarrassing. I usually just give a thin-lipped smile and try to look amused. (When your commanding officer is being less than professional, sometimes it's difficult to know how to act.) Daniel's never had that problem because he's not in the military—and they've known each other for a long time—so he can treat Jack anyway he wants to, regardless. If it's a bad joke, Daniel will _tell_ him it's a bad joke. It hasn't ever seemed to bother Jack, though. Sometimes I think he jokes around just to amuse _himself_."

"But, even though I'm not in the military either, I'm _not_ free to speak my mind," Vala surmised.

"You may if he gives you permission," Sam told her. "Regardless of the fact that you're a civilian, you're at the SGC by the good graces of its commander . . . whether it's Hank Landry or Jack O'Neill doesn't matter. You should try to treat General O'Neill with as much respect as you've given General Landry."

"_Lately_," qualified Cam. "More than you did when you first arrived at the SGC."

"I didn't know him then," said Vala. "I have since gained great respect for General Landry. He's a good man and a strong, principled leader. I admire him tremendously."

"Then do the same for General O'Neill," said Sam. "Take your lead from SG-1. When you first get there, speak only when spoken to. If he's asking you an obviously silly question, feel free to give him an equally silly answer. He's got a great sense of humor."

"And smile brightly when you do it," put in Cam.

Sam agreed. "You'll win him over for sure if you do that. He loves to see people smile."

"Thanks. I appreciate all of your input. I'll do my best not to cause him to want to send me back through the 'gate. And I'll try not to say or do anything . . . outrageous: I don't want to lose any chance I may have of winning Daniel over."

"That's your best bet in _any_ first encounter," said Didi. "Behave conservatively until you get the lay of the land."

"That's the rule of thumb for every first contact mission through the 'gate, too," said Cam. "It's not worded in quite the same way, but the principle is still the same."

"Well, then, shall we get started?" Vala asked excitedly, after having finished her macaroni and cheese. "I'm nervous, and I know I won't be able to eat another thing or get a decent night's sleep 'til the worst of this is behind me."

"That could be a few days," said Cam. "Do you want us to find you a place to stay between the tenth and twelfth, while you're waiting for the _Tornang _to leave space dock?"

"Why don't you just teleport me back here after I've signed on? Then we could fast forward to the twelfth, and you could teleport me to the space dock at whatever time I'm supposed to report for duty that day. Once I'm on board ship, I'll do my job for three days, while you're busy fast forwarding again to the fifteenth, at which time you'll pull me and an escape pod off the ship and send us to P3S 894."

"So much for the possibility of the timelines running parallel," said Cam. "If they did, we'd have to wait it out for those five days ourselves."

"That's true," said Didi. "And, since what Vala's going to be doing in _her_ timeline won't affect anything in the here and now for the rest of us, it doesn't matter. Three days will pass for Vala from the time she boards the ship 'til the time we teleport her off of it, but only a matter of minutes will pass here. That's one of the mind-boggling things about time travel."

Cam got to his feet, picked up his empty salad bowl and said, "After we take care of our dishes and garbage, we'll head back to our room and finish what we started this morning." Looking at Sam and Teal'c, he said, "We'll see you guys later."

As she rose to her feet and picked up her own salad bowl, Didi said, "We'll contact you before we send Vala off for good, so you can say goodbye."

Sam nodded. "You'd better. I'd hate for her to leave without a word."

"I'd never do that," said Vala, also standing and gathering up her dirty dishes. "I'll definitely get together with you later to say goodbye. But for now . . . ta." She smiled and waved, flinging her pigtails around as she headed for the sink.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24: MAKING IT HAPPEN

After having taken care of their dishes, Cam, Didi and Vala were back in the general's quarters and began threshing out the rest of the details for starting Vala on her new life. Cam and Didi took turns at both producing holographic projections and procuring items their friend needed—except for the black SGC suit, which Vala went to get for herself from stores, since she knew her own size and where to find what she needed. She managed to find an unused one without any SGC patches.

Didi sent for a working Goa'uld healing device that had been abandoned somewhere within their own universe, since the system lords there were all dead now.

Having determined in advance that they would avoid stealing anything if at all possible, Cam and Didi worked on procuring items for Vala that were irreparably damaged, or which had been abandoned somewhere. The first item on their list was footwear.

After looking at the footwear worn by other human female medics within the Tai-Re Federation (in 2005), Didi procured a pair of fashionable (by Tai-Re Federation standards) yet sturdy boots for Vala that would be acceptable on board the freighter _Tornang_ and would also be comfortable enough for her to wear throughout her "ordeal," as she chose to call it. Moreover, since they had no way of knowing how long it would be before General O'Neill would permit her to change into some SGC boots (which she did not particularly like, but which she had, over the years, grown accustomed to), or to leave the base so that she could buy some more stylish shoes, she wanted her temporary footwear to be as acceptable to herself personally as possible.

The next item they acquired was a med-kit typical of those used by Tai-Re Federation medics. It had belonged to an old medic who had passed away just recently. His belongings, it appeared, had not yet been sorted through, claimed or salvaged by anyone. Didi wasn't entirely happy about taking the item, but she had acquiesced when Cam pointed out that, because the old man had died childless and intestate, it would probably wind up being stolen or auctioned off, anyway.

The kit contained everything a medic on board a freighter needed . . . most of which Vala had no idea how to use. Since she intended to use the Goa'uld healing device for pretty much everything, however, it didn't particularly matter. The med-kit was for show, nothing more.

It occurred to Vala as they worked at procuring things, that she might need some sort of license to be allowed to practice medicine of any kind within Tai-Re Federation space. Cam requested that they be shown, up close, the type of certificate or license given to and carried by any shipboard medics within the Tai-Re Federation. Didi took an official-looking document of similar size and shape from the general's desk and transmuted it so that it looked exactly like a Tai-Re Federation medic's license. She then had it filled out in what appeared to be the handwriting of the Tai-Re Federation official responsible for giving out such documents, and put a date on it about four months prior to the Tai-Re Federation date on which Vala would be signing on as a medic aboard the _Tornang_. Last, but not least, Didi stamped the license in the appropriate place with an official rubber stamp previously used by the commander of the SGC and then transmuted it to look like the stamp of the Tai-Re Federation equivalent of a notary public. With all of that done, Vala then signed the certificate on the appropriate line. Her certification was complete. She took the license, folded it neatly, and put it into a pocket of her med-kit.

"Well," said Cam, "all that's left for us to get now is some sort of duffel bag or backpack that you can carry your other belongings in—including rations and water containers. Let's have a look at what we need to accomplish that." He brought up the appropriate holographic image. Vala went to her room and got the backpack Didi had procured for her on the night they had escaped Planet Max. Cam transmuted it into a similar type of bag that was commonly used within the Tai-Re Federation.

Water was stored in containers that were similar to canteens, so Didi teleported a pair of those from the supply room and transmuted them to fit Tai-Re Federation specifications. Cam then teleported some SG team rations to the room, and they, too, were transmuted into the Tai-Re Federation equivalent. He made a provision within his transmutation command that, if Vala was alone when eating the rations, they would be transmuted into her favorite type of granola bar the moment she opened the wrapper. While on board ship, she would have to eat whatever was offered in the mess hall—unless she was unable to leave sickbay for some reason.

Vala rolled her eyes. "I know I'm going to absolutely _hate_ the entire experience," she moaned.

"Just remember," said Didi, "you're doing it for Daniel."

Vala sighed. "We've been so busy trying to get everything _just right_ so that I don't stick out like a sore thumb within the Tai-Re Federation that I forgot _why_ we're doing it. Thank you for reminding me. Nothing is too difficult or too much of a sacrifice if it means I can be with Daniel."

"Just stay focused on that thought all the time you're on the ship," said Cam, "and you'll be fine."

Didi looked at her husband slightly askance. "Except, of course, when you're treating patients. You'll need to concentrate on your _job_ during those times—not on Daniel."

"That goes without saying," Vala declared. "When using the Goa'uld healing device, you have to focus your thoughts on what you want to do with it. I wouldn't be able to use it properly if I was thinking only of Daniel."

"Which is why I didn't mention it," Cam said pointedly to his wife.

"Oh. Sorry," said Didi. "I just don't want anything to go wrong, and I'm not as well acquainted with all of these things as you two are."

Vala smiled at her. "It's okay, Didi. I appreciate your desire to keep me from making a mistake. I intend to be careful. I'm just glad it's only going to be for three days. Any more than that and I think I'd go stir crazy."

"So," Cam said, "now that we've got all of the _items_ necessary, we need to take care of a few _other_ small details."

"Like what?" Didi asked with a furrowed brow.

Cam gazed into her tired eyes. "I know the past few days have been rough; that's why I'm helping with this. But there are some things you've probably forgotten or haven't given much thought to."

"Such as getting rid of this streak of white hair and making me the same age I was back in 2005," said Vala.

"Oh, yeah," Didi acknowledged.

"Candy bar," Cam ordered her. "Take a bite."

"Okay." Didi nodded and took the Milky Way from her pocket. It was almost gone. She popped what was left of it into her mouth and ate it slowly. Cam sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled her onto his lap, wrapped his arms around her and said, "Why don't you take a break and let me do the rest, hun. I can handle it from here. When it's time to send her off, we'll work on it together."

"Go to it, then." Didi climbed off Cam's lap and sat down beside him.

Cam then stood up and faced Vala. "Ready?"

Vala nodded, went to the bathroom and looked into the mirror; Cam joined her. Then, closing his eyes, he said, "**Make Vala the same physical age that her original was on May 10, 2005 and remove the streak of white from her hair**."

In an instant, Vala lost three years' worth of fine lines around her eyes and mouth, as well as the white streak of hair. Her face lit up. "Now that's more like it!"

Cam smiled softly. "You look good. Great, even. I'm sure Jackson'll be impressed."

Vala turned around and looked at Cam earnestly. "Do you really think so? Do you think Daniel will like me?"

"Since you won't be coming on to him the way you did the other one, yeah, I think so. Just stick to being reserved for a while. You can always let your hair down later—after you and Jackson . . . become an item."

"I think it's time that we determine and then write down what commands and parameters we'll be using to get you to where and when you need to go," said Didi from the bathroom doorway.

"Good idea," Cam agreed.

They spent the next couple of hours watching holographic projections of Vala's intended destinations, contemplating how best to word the necessary commands and then writing them down. They used up several pages of the legal pad in the process. It only occurred to Didi when she was halfway through the second command and its accompanying parameters that she had forgotten to specify that it should be in the alternate universe they'd been recently viewing. When she groaned and looked like she was on the verge of tears, Cam took the tablet from her and rewrote the first command in its entirety, with the alternate universe stipulation included. He then went on to rewrite what she'd already written of the second command and its parameters and then handed the tablet back to her so that she could finish it.

Didi smiled wanly at him. "Thanks, love. The details are _so_ taxing . . . . I hope we get it right. I'd feel awful if we sent Vala to the wrong universe and everything got messed up."

"You want me to finish?" Cam asked her.

She shook her head. "No," she sighed. "I can do it. Just . . . get me some aspirin or something, would you, please? I have a killer headache."

"Aspirin? Hun, I can make your headache go away _without _aspirin. Have you forgotten that?"

Didi smiled sheepishly. "I guess I did. I could make my _own_ headache go away for that matter. I'm just too tired to try."

Cam put his hand on Didi's forehead, closed his eyes and looked for the area that was pulsating. Finding it, he used the Power to reduce both the pain and the swelling.

Didi sighed with relief. "Thanks, love," she said.

"You're welcome." He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Glad I could help."

Didi then went back to work on the second command, finished it quickly, and started working on the third—which would be much easier to write, since they could use the phrase "where our Vala is" instead of "the universe most recently viewed."

When she was finished, Didi sighed, dropped the tablet and the pen on the floor and lay back on the bed. "Man, I'm glad that's done!" she said. "That was wicked!"

"Let's take a break and go get some exercise," Cam suggested. "I know you're tired, but I have a feeling it's mostly _mental_ tiredness. Exercise should revitalize you a little bit."

Didi sat up. "I guess so." She looked at their guest and said, "Vala, why don't you go pack a few personal belongings into that transmuted backpack while we're gone. We'll call you when we're ready to teleport you to the shipping company's office for sign up."

"All right," Vala replied, nodding.

Cam went to the door and opened it. "Ladies . . ." he said, standing back, bowing slightly and letting Vala leave the room first. Didi was behind her and waited in the corridor for her husband. When he emerged, he grabbed her hand and said, "Let's go, hun." He headed down the hallway at a fast-walk and Didi could hardly keep up with him.

"Cam, slow down! My legs aren't as long or as strong as yours," she protested breathlessly.

He slowed his progress so suddenly that he almost came to a complete stop. "Sorry, Dee. You're so much a part of me in so many ways that sometimes I just . . . forget."

Didi stopped in her tracks and turned to look at Cam. "You forget what?—that I'm not actually a physical part of you?—that I'm a separate and distinct entity?"

"Um, sort of, but not exactly. I can't explain it. It doesn't make any sense—even to me."

Didi smiled wanly, put a hand to his cheek and said, "I think I understand, anyway . . . sort of." She then withdrew her hand from his cheek, took hold of his hand again and started back down the corridor. "Feelings are what they are, Cam," she said. "We can't always explain them or make sense of them. But we should at least _try_ to be in touch with each other's feelings and sensitive to each other's needs."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was going too fast for you."

"I'd have to _run _to keep up with what's only a _fast-walk_ for you. We're going to the gym to exercise. Can't we just . . . _stroll_ to get there?"

Cam stopped in _his_ tracks this time and let go of her hand. He then crooked his elbow, looked down at his wife with a soft smile and said, "A stroll it is."

Didi smiled back and hooked her arm through his and they began their leisurely stroll to the gym.

"You know what I'd really like to do, Cam?"

"What, hun?"

"Take a stroll along a beach somewhere. Do you know I have never seen the ocean in person? I have never so much as dipped a toe in any kind of salt water. I have never felt ocean spray against my face. I have never had soft, wet sand between my toes. I have never been on a beach and gazed up at the stars while listening to the waves lapping against the shore."

Cam stopped in his tracks again. "No sooner said than done." Grasping her hand, he closed his eyes and said, "**Take Didi and me to a deserted stretch of beach somewhere along the Southern California coastline**."

A moment later they were on the beach, sea gulls flying and crying overhead, water lapping at the shore. The sun was shining; the sky was blue; the air was warm, damp and salty. "Oh, Cam!" Didi said. "It's beautiful!"

Cam smiled down at her. "Nice, isn't it? And we have it all to ourselves."

They took off their boots and socks and set them on a boulder close by, not too near the water. Then they rolled their pant legs up to just below their knees. (The type of SGC slacks they wore were a little too narrow a cut to be easily rolled up any higher.) For twenty minutes they strolled along the shore, the water lapping at their feet. Didi squealed with delight at both that and the feel of wet sand squishing between her toes.

"I'm sorry it isn't windy enough for the ocean spray in your face that you wanted," Cam said. "Maybe someday, after we're married, we can go boating or rafting. Ocean spray, lake or reservoir water, white water rapids—it doesn't matter. Either way, you're gonna get a wet face."

Didi smiled. "I love you, Cam. You know, this could be the _only_ reason I would ever hesitate to take the Power from you: every holiday and every special occasion would be _really_ special because you'd make it that way for me by taking me places—just like this . . . on a whim! You're _wonderful_ to me. I wish it could _always_ be like this."

"So do I," said Cam earnestly, stopping to touch her cheek and gaze into her eyes. "But I know as well as you do that, if I kept the Power and went on dangerous missions through the 'gate, I'd probably be tempted to use it. And if I did, I'd have a hard time explaining myself without telling the whole truth about who and what you and I really are."

Didi nodded and sighed. "I know. But it would be nice to travel anywhere in the world and not have to have a passport."

"Yeah, it would. I'd take you to Paris, Venice, Rome, Barcelona . . . anywhere you wanna go." He drew his wife to him and kissed her passionately. When their lips parted, he touched his forehead to hers and said, "As complex as our lives are right now, I don't envy any other Cam and Didi anywhere in the multi-verse: at the moment, we have the Power to go _anyplace_ we want to, _anytime _we want to. Who could ask for more than that?"

"We could stay at the SGC until all the food is gone from the pantry—except for the staples that were there to begin with. Since we can travel back in time to whatever place we choose to go to, there's really no need for us to hurry. . . ."

Cam smiled and sniggered a little. "I was just thinking that same thing, but I didn't wanna say anything 'cause I thought you'd object. I must be rubbing off on you. Used to be you were all business when it came to getting everybody—including us—new homes and lives we could fit into."

"It's simply a result of being alone here on the beach with you like this: it's making me feel whimsical instead of practical. I _know_ what I have to do. I'd just like to postpone our own departure for a little while."

Cam nodded. "So would I. We could use a few days of down time after sending everyone else off. We're gonna be ready for a break by then, I'm sure."

"On top of which, wherever, whenever we go, we're going to have to pretend we're not married. That won't be easy. I'm not in any hurry to be separated from you—even if it's only for a few days."

"Neither am I." Cam sighed. "I guess we'd better pick up our boots and socks and head back. Vala's gonna wonder what happened to us." Didi nodded. Cam kissed her lips briefly one last time before they went to gather up their footwear. They then looked at each other, held hands, and Cam teleported them directly to the bathroom in the general's quarters.

They dropped their boots and socks on the floor and sat down side by side on the edge of the tub. Didi, closest to the faucet, turned on the water, set it at a bearably hot temperature, and then the duo proceeded to rinse the sand off their feet. Once they were clean, they grabbed a pair of towels and dried off, swatting each other with the towels after they had finished.

They were laughing and carrying on like a couple of children when they heard a distinct and loud knock on the door.

"Vala," they said in unison, looking at each other. Cam sighed; Didi smiled and went to open the door.

"Hi," Didi said perkily. "Come on in."

"I've been looking all over for you two. Where've you been?" Vala asked as she entered.

"We went on a little excursion," Didi said. She sat down on the edge of the bed and proceeded to put on her socks and boots. It was then that Vala noticed her bare feet and rolled up pant legs.

"I took Didi to see the Pacific Ocean," Cam elaborated, exiting the bathroom with his own footwear in hand.

Vala smiled faintly. "I hope you had a good time."

"We did," Cam supplied, as he, too, sat down and began to put on his socks.

"Are you ready to go for it now?" Didi asked, getting to her feet and rolling down her pant legs.

Vala nodded. "I think so. My heart's pounding at the thought of it, but . . . yes, I'm ready to go."

"Then let's call Sam and Teal'c to either the conference room or the cafeteria so you can say your goodbyes," said Cam.

Vala sighed. "I think I prefer the cafeteria. It feels less . . . formal."

"You two go on ahead and I'll page the others," Cam volunteered.

Didi picked up the legal pad and followed Vala out the door.

The duo arrived at the cafeteria well before the others; and because Vala planned to return to the SGC after she had signed on as a medic aboard the _Tornang_, she talked Didi into sending her right then to the freight-shipping company's office that they had located earlier. Didi agreed. Focusing on the words Cam had rewritten for her on the legal pad, she did just that.

She was watching a holographic projection of the proceedings when Cam and the others arrived.

"What's going on, hun?" Cam queried.

"It took you three so long to get here that Vala wanted to go ahead and sign on to the _Tornang _right away, rather than sitting around waiting. I'm watching her progress. After all, we do have to bring her back when she's done. . . ."

"I'll take care of that," Cam volunteered. "We agreed to share the load. . . ."

"**Milky Way**," Didi ordered. One appeared in her outstretched hand.

"You didn't specify where to get it from," Cam noticed.

"I pictured the vending machine in my mind when I made the request," Didi told him. "That's all I have to do anymore." She smiled and took a bite of the candy bar.

"It looks like Vala's showing that . . . creature . . . some sort of document," observed Sam.

"The medic's license Didi created for her," Cam said. "It's the best phony certificate of its kind you'll ever see. It was done primarily by transmutation."

"That _thing_ looks kinda like the Davy Jones creature in the last _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movie," Sam commented. "It kind of makes you wonder if the people who write scripts and screenplays have dreams about other worlds out there in the galaxy, not knowing that they really exist."

After Vala had filled out and signed the necessary paperwork, she went to a discreet location, out of sight of any passersby, and Cam teleported her back to the SGC.

"Now what?" Sam queried.

"Now we say our goodbyes," said Vala, misty-eyed. She wrapped her arms around Sam and said, "You've been a good friend to me over the past few years, Samantha—even if, as Daniel said, those years exist for us only in our memories. They're still real to me, and I very much appreciate all of the things you taught me that helped me to survive on Earth as I tried to learn to fit in. Thank you."

She pulled away and then approached Teal'c, giving him a hug before saying, "We were both victims of Goa'uld system lords at one time, Muscles . . . although in completely different ways. After being liberated from our respective fates, I'm glad that we were able to become colleagues and teammates. It's been an honor and a privilege to know you and to work and fight alongside of you."

She then stood back and looked at both of her colleagues and said, "Even though I'll undoubtedly be working with another Samantha Carter and another Teal'c, in my heart they will never be able to replace the two of you. I care for you both more than you'll ever know. I will always regard you as true friends." Didi thought she saw a mist of tears in Teal'c's eyes.

"I wish you well, Vala Mal Doran," said the Jaffa. "It is my sincere hope that the Daniel Jackson you meet in this alternate universe will return your affection. In my estimation, you have proven yourself worthy of that gift. Be well, my friend."

"Take care, Vala," said Sam. "If you play your cards right, I'm sure you'll be able to win Daniel over. He needs someone like you in his life; he just doesn't know it yet." She smiled softly.

"Well, then, I guess I'm ready," Vala said to Cam and Didi, grabbing her backpack and med-kit.

"It's my turn, love," said Didi to her husband with a soft smile.

"Go for it, Dee," Cam replied.

Once again concentrating on the words she and Cam had written on the legal pad, Didi sent Vala to a safe location near the space dock where the Tai-Re Federation freighter _Tornang_ was berthed, specifically on Earth date May 12, 2005.

Vala didn't even have time to wave goodbye.

"**Show us what's happening with the Vala clone, since her arrival in the alternate universe on May 12, 2005**," said Cam.

The other clones watched as Vala stepped out from behind a stack of containers and stood looking at her surroundings. The space dock was huge and crowded with people and creatures of many kinds. The _Tornang_ was the only ship docked at that moment, so she didn't have trouble finding it. She swung her backpack up onto her left shoulder, holding the strap in place with her hand, and carried her med-kit in her right hand. Then she began to walk toward the ship.

Her papers were inspected by the watchman at the dock. He nodded, gave them back to her, and waved her aboard. She was shown to her quarters by another crewman who had been assigned that task, and she found the infirmary to be right across the hall from her quarters. "Convenient," the others heard her say.

"Well, she got there in one piece," said Sam. "Now what?"

"Now we fast forward three days, to May 15," said Cam, "and teleport ourselves aboard the _Tornang_ just as it's being hijacked." He looked at his wife. "Before we do this, I need a handful of raisins. I haven't had any all day, and I've done quite a bit of work. Excuse me a minute while I go get some from the pantry."

"You're so depleted you can't even teleport them here?" Didi asked as he began to walk away.

"No, it's not that; I just feel like walking," he replied, turning his head and looking back at her with a smile on his face.

"I feel so lazy," said Didi, sitting down at hers and Cam's table.

"Cam's used to exercise," said Sam. "It's a part of his life."

Didi nodded. "I know. He exercised every day that we were locked in that tiny room together on Planet Max. _I've_ been trying to get some exercise, too, but . . . I've spoiled myself by using the Power so much, I guess. I teleport everything, rather than going to get it."

Sam shook her head. "No, you don't. You walk to the pantry and the kitchen at meal times and fix your food manually. . . ."

"Except when Cam fixes it for me." She shook her head. "That man is going to spoil me even more than I spoil myself."

"Colonel Mitchell is obviously very much in love with you, Didina," said Teal'c. "His desire to cater to your every whim is evidence of that fact. My advice is that you enjoy it while you can. Once you have found a new home and Colonel Mitchell becomes leader of SG-1, he will have less time and energy for such things."

Didi nodded. "I know," she said with a sigh. "That's why I let him do it when he wants to. After we're legally Earth-married, _I'll_ be doing more for _him_. I'll have to. I've seen for myself how exhausting missions through the 'gate can be. No matter how tired I might be at the end of a long day at the office, I'll never be anywhere _near_ as tired as Cam will be. I know that."

"Not necessarily," said her husband as he approached their table with a box of raisins in his hand. "Not every trip through the 'gate is exhausting: occasionally we go to worlds where there's nothing going on. After a cursory inspection of the immediate surroundings—never going more than a couple of miles from the 'gate if we can help it—sometimes we turn right around and head back to Earth with nothing interesting to report. On days like that, I'll be glad to make dinner if you're more tired than I am. And if, by chance, we're _both_ completely wiped, we can always order in or go out to eat."

"That's true." Didi smiled wanly. "Had enough raisins, love?"

"Yeah, I think so." Cam closed the box and slid it into his pocket. "Let's do this."

The couple got to their feet, and Didi teleported them into the infirmary aboard the _Tornang_ just moments before the ship was boarded by the hijackers. "Hi, Vala," she said brightly.

Vala rolled her eyes. "Would you please get me out of here? The past three days have been a living nightmare! (Don't ask!)" She grabbed her backpack and med-kit.

"Take my hand," Didi told her. Once she had done so, Didi teleported both of them to a previously determined location on P3S 894. Shortly after their arrival, the escape pod appeared just a few feet from them, and Cam materialized close to it.

"I got a look at the hijackers' ship before I left," said Cam. "One guess who they were."

"The Lucien Alliance," Vala replied. "The captain announced that we were about to be boarded by the Lucien Alliance just before you teleported in."

"Good thing we got you off the ship. Those people are _not_ ones to be messed with."

"I know that all too well. Perhaps one of these days you could tell _that _story to Didi. You risked a great deal to stop them from selling that addictive corn of theirs throughout the galaxy."

Cam shrugged. "It was all in a day's work."

"This I've _gotta_ see," said Didi to her husband. "But for now, could we get closer to the 'gate? It looks huge from here. . . . I'd kind of like to see just how high it really is."

"Sure," Cam said with a smile, taking his wife's hand. Vala followed closely behind them.

As they drew nearer, Didi's mouth opened in awe. "It's even bigger than I thought! What does it look like when it's operational?"

Cam shrugged and looked thoughtful. "I guess we could dial up a world we've visited before that doesn't have any people on it, just so you can see what happens when a connection is made. . . ."

"Do you remember the coordinates off the top of your head?" Didi asked.

"I know one," said Vala. She went to the DHD and began to firmly push seven of the symbols.

Cam took Didi by the hand and moved her back and to the side of the ring. "Watch out," he said, "unless you wanna get disintegrated."

Didi looked at her husband with mixed puzzlement and consternation on her face, saying, "What? Why?"

Soon the connection was established, and a huge wave that looked like water shot out several feet from the center of the ring, retracted and then settled into the blue "puddle" that was the event horizon of the wormhole.

"Oh!" exclaimed Didi, understanding dawning. "If you're in the way, that wave can kill you?"

"Seen it happen," said Cam. "It ain't pleasant."

"Can I . . . touch the . . . puddle?"

"Sure. Once the wave retracts, it's safe enough. That's what we go through. It's freakin' _cold_."

Didi slowly and cautiously trod up the ramp and touched the surface of the puddle with her fingertip. Smiling at her, Cam said, "Go ahead and stick it in. It won't send your finger anywhere."

"Brrr! You're right: it _is_ cold." She withdrew her finger, turned around and trotted back down the ramp. "You can close it now, Vala," she said. "I'm done."

Once the wormhole was gone, she said to Vala, "After we get back to the SGC, I'm going to take a look at your life on _today's_ date: September 23, 2008—see how it's going. If you look absolutely miserable, I'll bring you back to the SGC and we'll try something else."

Vala shook her head. "No, Didi. Even if Daniel doesn't fall in love with me over the next three years, I want to stay. I need a place I can belong—a life I can call my own, however unsatisfactory it may be. It certainly won't be any worse than the one my original is living. Only if my life is in danger do I want you to pull me out—and only if the circumstances are extreme. I've been in a number of dangerous situations in my life—some of the worst with SG-1. So, unless I'm about to be executed, let me be. I have every confidence that help will come from somewhere, as long as I have friends in the SGC."

"All right, then," Didi said with a sigh. "But we'll look in on you, anyway—just to see how it's going. I hope—I _pray_—that you and Daniel will be together by now." She hugged Vala with tears in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you."

"Not nearly as much as I'm going to miss you, Didi. There'll undoubtedly be another me wherever you and Colonel Mitchell end up going. But for _me_ to find _you_ will not be an easy thing."

"Maybe you can persuade Jackson to go to Didi's cousin for his new glasses' prescription sometime in late 2008—after Didi's moved to Colorado Springs and is working for him," suggested Cam.

Vala nodded. "I can do that. And if Colonel Mitchell has helped her to move in and they're dating, I can mention that fact to Daniel—that it will give us a chance to meet Colonel Mitchell's new lady friend. If they _aren't_ dating, I'll just tell Daniel that I heard Dr. Grant was very good."

"If they _are_ dating and you tell the other me that you work with Cam, she'll probably be glad to meet both of you," said Didi.

"Sounds like a plan," said Cam. "Listen, Vala, if and when the time comes, try to keep SG-1 from going to PX5 452. If the general asks why, tell him that you know it's a very dangerous place to go, inhabited by unfriendly aliens with Ori-like powers. That should be enough to get the job done. If not, let him know that they even destroyed the Goa'uld system lord who ruled their anciently."

"All right," Vala agreed, nodding affirmatively. "I'll do whatever I have to do to convince him. I don't want to go there ever again, and I certainly wouldn't want my Daniel to go, either."

"Good," said Cam. "Now, I'm sorry to say, we've gotta get back. You've got rations, you've got water . . ."

"Wait a minute, Cam," said Didi. "We need to do one more thing. Do you have the SGC suit you wore when you signed on, Vala? Cam and I should take it back with us and return it to stores. I expect inventory was taken before the SGC was shut down, so . . . they'll know if one is missing."

Vala nodded, unzipped her backpack and said, "Here," while handing the suit to Didi. "Aside from the fact that inventory was probably taken, I don't think it would be a good idea for me to have this in my possession when SG-1 finds me."

"Good thinking," said Cam, "—both of you."

"Just remember, Vala," said Didi, ". . . SG-1 will be here sometime tomorrow. We hope everything goes the way you want it to. Take care." She gave her a hug, after which Cam did the same and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek, as well. He then teleported Didi and himself back home to the decommissioned SGC.

Sam and Teal'c were still in the cafeteria when the Mitchells returned. They seemed to be having a mid-afternoon snack.

"How'd it go?" Sam queried when the duo appeared.

"Good," said Cam, nodding. "It was the Lucien Alliance that was hijacking the ship."

"Not surprising, considering their scope," said Sam.

"Ready to see how things are shaping up between Vala and Daniel in this timeframe?" Didi asked the entire group.

Heads nodded and yeses were spoken.

Closing her eyes and concentrating, Didi said, "**Show us what the Vala clone is doing now, at this time and on this date, September 23, 2008, in the alternate universe to which we sent her**."

"Oh, I like this place, Daniel!" she was saying as the five members of SG-1 strolled through a grassy field of wildflowers. She put her left hand up to her forehead to brush back a stray lock of hair that was getting in her face. On her finger were a wedding band and a good-sized diamond engagement ring.

The fact that Daniel and Vala were now husband and wife was proven beyond doubt when Daniel plucked a particularly pretty flower with a fairly long stem and inserted it through Vala's pigtailed hair. "Picture perfect!" he said with a smile. Then he bent down and kissed her briefly.

"Would you two get a move on?" that universe's Cam ordered them. "We're here to gather medicinal herbs, not wildflowers."

"Give us a sec, would you?" Daniel protested. He took his cell phone out of his breast pocket and snapped a photo of a smiling Vala with the flower tucked into her hair.

"I love you, Daniel," she said quietly.

"I love you, too, Vee," he replied. "We'd better get going or Mitchell may decide to leave you behind from now on."

Didi closed her eyes and concentrated. "**Allow Vala to hear my voice in her head**," she said. Then she opened her eyes and said, "Vala, can you hear me?"

"Give me a minute, darling. My bootlace is untied," Vala said to Daniel. "I'll catch you up.

"So, you're watching me, Didi—and the rest of the group is there, too, no doubt. I'm happy—happier than I ever thought possible. Daniel fell in love with me almost immediately. Of course, being Daniel, it took him three months to ask me out and another year to propose to me, but . . . here we are. No need to fret over me. Just know that I have the life I've always wanted. Thank you—both you and Colonel Mitchell. May you fare as well as I." She got to her feet then and ran to catch up to Daniel

"**End it**," said Didi. She sighed and smiled softly. "I'm so happy for her."

"Me, too. Good job, guys," said Sam. "I only hope you can do the same for me."

"We will, Sam, we will," Cam assured her. "Just give us a couple of days. Between Jackson and Vala, Didi and I are mentally and emotionally burned out right now. We need a break."

Sam nodded. "I understand. Having to do Vala so soon after Daniel must've been trying, even if Daniel did do a lot of it on his own."

"You have no idea," said Cam. "He was a lot more trouble than you think."

Sam looked puzzled. "Did something happen that we don't know about?"

"Yeah, but . . . it's not something you need to concern yourselves with. Didi fixed the problem and Jackson got what he wanted."

"We hope," said Didi. "If the Stargate turns up in the Gate Room tomorrow, we'll know that he survived long enough to get rid of Ra, at least."

"And then we can take a look and see how things are going with him in the current timeframe," Cam said.

"Yes, we can," said Didi. "Right now, though, there're two more little details I need to take care of. . . ." Holding the SGC suit in her arms, she closed her eyes and said, "**Clean and freshen this article of clothing and return it its proper place in the storeroom, neatly pressed and folded**."

"That's one," she said, as the suit disappeared from her arms. "Now for the other . . ."

Closing her eyes again, she said, "**Send the Vala clone's shoulder bag, underwear and other personal items from her room here at the SGC back through time to the place she called home one month prior to the day that she and her Daniel Jackson moved in together. Make it so**."

"I notice you said 'moved in together,'" said Sam.

"I didn't want to pry and try to find out if they were cohabitating before they got married, so I just decided to cover the situation either way. She'll get her things and Daniel won't be living with her when they arrive, so she won't have to explain where they came from."

"Good thinking," said Cam. "Now, wife of mine, it's time for your next exercise session."

"Yes, dear," Didi said submissively. She kissed her husband on the cheek, took hold of his hand and said, "We'll see you guys later." Then they left.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25: NO REST FOR THE WEARY

After their exercise session, Cam and Didi decided to take another quick trip somewhere and just . . . "hang out" until dinnertime. Cam took Didi's hand as she stepped off the treadmill; then he wrapped his arms around her and teleported them to a grassy hillock somewhere in the vicinity of Auburn, Kansas.

A slight breeze was blowing—just enough to cool them down and help dry them off. Didi looked around. "It's peaceful here," she said.

Cam nodded. "I used to come here when I was a kid—whenever I needed to be alone and think." He closed his eyes and a blanket appeared on the ground. "C'mon, let's sit down. I figured we could use some down time, but not cooped up in the SGC. We haven't been outdoors all that much, and I know _I've_ been wanting to breathe more fresh air. That trip to the beach earlier made me want it even more."

As she sat down cross-legged on the blanket, Didi said, "You asked Sam to give us a couple of days before looking for a home for her. Maybe sometime tomorrow—after we see whether or not Daniel managed to send us the 'gate from Abydos—we should take Sam and Teal'c on an excursion, too. I'm sure they'd enjoy some fresh air just as much as we would."

"Yeah," said Cam, nodding, "we could do that." He smiled softly at his wife. "You're always thinking about other people's needs before your own. That's probably why you were chosen."

"I'm just doing what I have to do," Didi replied.

"And you talk about _me_ being self-effacing."

Didi gave Cam a crooked smile. "I guess we're both modest in our own way."

"And for our own reasons." He lay down on the blanket, reached out a hand and said, "Come and lie down beside me, Dee." She did as he asked and he held her hand. "Just look at that bright blue sky."

"Do you see that big, long cloud up there?" Didi pointed. "It looks kind of like a submarine."

"Uh-huh. And do you see that one over there? A heart with an arrow through it."

Didi laughed. "I see a submarine and you see a Valentine. What's wrong with this picture?"

Cam guffawed. "I didn't even think about that. We each saw what we saw—mainly because you were looking directly overhead, while I was looking around."

"I guess that's because of your training," Didi surmised. "You're in the habit of looking around and not taking anything for granted—or at face value."

"I suppose so." Cam rolled onto his side, crooked his elbow and propped his head up. "It's relaxing here, though, isn't it?"

"Mm-hm," Didi agreed with a nod. She gazed up at him lovingly and smiled softly. "Thank you for bringing me here, Cam. It's nice to be somewhere . . . close to home."

"I love you, Dee." He bent down and kissed her. A brief brushing of his lips against hers became more and deeper kisses. He pulled back and said, "Maybe I should've gotten a couple of pillows, too."

Didi smiled. "Let's just go back to the SGC, Cam. As lovely as it is here—and as nice as it is to breathe fresh air—it could be awkward if someone else decided to come up here for some introspection."

"Oh my gosh!" Cam muttered, sitting up suddenly.

"What?" Didi asked, sitting up just as quickly.

"When I mentally made the command to bring us here," Cam began, gazing (unseeing) at a point past the toes of his boots, "I just asked that we be taken to the hill I used to visit when I was a kid. This could very well be _our_ Earth—not the one the decommissioned SGC is on. And, I suppose it's possible that this is . . . the past." He turned his head and looked at Didi with slight consternation.

Didi shook her head. "No, this isn't the past: you would've had to've specified some sort of timeframe for that to've happened. Although, yes, it very probably is our Earth—at least, the Earth on which our originals live and that we have memories of."

Cam gazed outward—to the west, by Didi's reckoning.

"Is your parents' farm in that direction?" she asked.

Cam nodded. "Yeah."

"It's hard, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Didi was looking at him with so much compassion that he could feel it—enough to break his concentration. He turned his head to look at her and said, "It's okay. In a few days we'll be on an alternate Earth somewhere and I'll have a chance to see my parents—at least, that world's version of them."

Didi put a hand on his cheek and gazed into his eyes. "One of the parameters I'm going to specify in looking for a world for us is that the history of that Cam Mitchell and that Didi Steadman are exactly the same as ours, up to the point where SG-1 went through the 'gate to PX5 452."

"You think that's possible?—that there could be two universes with exactly the same history?" Cam asked, hope forming in his eyes.

Didi nodded. "Yes, I do. In fact, I expect there are _many _that have the same history as ours—each of them up to a certain point where their paths diverged."

"And why would SG-1's going to Planet Max be the divergent point in our target universe?"

"It's evident, because of what the Chak-tuk gods said, that not_ all_ of the Chak-tuk developed the cloning technology. That being the case, there's a chance that, in one or more alternate universes, the _real_ members of SG-1 were held captive and forced to fight in the arena."

"I guess that makes sense. There would be complications resulting from that, though: General Landry would send another team after SG-1 when they didn't report in or return home on schedule, and if the second team didn't call in or return home either, he'd send a ship after _all_ of them. With the subcutaneous transponders they all have—if that particular detail holds true in most of the universes—they'd be teleported directly onto the ship and _then_ diplomatic channels would be opened. But how, exactly, would that help us?"

"What if we could find a universe where a _real _Cam Mitchell and a _real_ Didi Steadman died in the arena together, instead of being cloned like our originals were?"

"You think that possibility exists?"

"Very probably—somewhere. It would depend on their circumstances."

"Such as?"

Didi sighed. "It may be a bit of a stretch, but . . . what if, on one of the other PX5 452s, Gor-lak was less accommodating to _his_ Cam and Didi than our Gor-lak was to us and only gave them _one day_ together instead of_ three_? What if those two extra days mattered? What if twenty-four hours (give or take) wasn't enough for the two of them to bond the way we did? . . . and what if it cost them their lives?"

Cam looked thoughtful. "What if they didn't even get the _one day_?" He gazed into his wife's blue eyes. "I fell in love with you pretty quickly, Dee. Even after only twenty-four hours, I'd've given it my best shot. And if the SG-1 in this theoretical alternate universe told Gor-lak that someone would be coming for them, he would've known he had a limited time in which to act. He would've gotten all three couples into the arena as soon as possible.

"Do you remember when Gor-lak came to get us to take us to the other room?" Cam continued. "I thought we were already heading to the arena. What if another Cam and Didi actually _did_ go straight to the arena?"

"But you guys were on Planet Max _five days_ before I arrived. Wouldn't you have been picked up before that?"

"That's where General Landry's deploying another SG team comes in. That would've bought the Chak-tuk at least another twenty-four hours before they'd even _send_ a ship. As to how long it would take the ship to get there . . . ." He shrugged. "Like I told you before, Carter would be able to do the calculations on that. In any case, with a ticking clock hanging over their heads, they would have to've moved everything up—including Didi's abduction.

"If SG-1 arrived on the eleventh, like we did, the back-up team would've been sent through on the twelfth or thirteenth and a ship dispatched the day after that if no word was received from either team by then. If Carter and Teal'c, and then Jackson and Vala had all gone into the arena by the thirteenth, the Chak-tuk very probably would've decided to get a female for Mitchell not long after the first two events were over—if not before then—and the back-up SG team would probably've been imprisoned upon arrival, to be dealt with later.

"And if Mitchell and Didina were taken to the arena within a few hours of _her_ arrival on the planet, the two of them may've been so thrown by the situation that they failed miserably and got killed. Of course, all of this is pure speculation. . . ."

"But probably fairly accurate—in at least _one_ universe." Didi sighed again. "We'll take a look sometime later and see how close you are to the mark—if there's a world like that somewhere. If there is, then my parents—or rather, _that Didi's_ parents—probably think she was kidnapped or something and are frantic with worry by now."

"As you said, we'll take a look later and see." Cam got to his feet and helped her to hers. "Right now we need to get back to the SGC. My stomach's complaining. It wants dinner."

"You'd better send the blanket back to wherever it came from; then I'll teleport us home."

Since Daniel and Vala were gone, the four remaining clones kept to themselves a great deal, coming together only at mealtime. The evening of the twenty-third passed quietly and uneventfully after dinner. How Sam and Teal'c were spending their time between meals, Cam and Didi didn't know. And Sam and Teal'c, for the most part, allowed the couple their privacy.

The next morning, Sam knocked on the door of the general's quarters and loudly informed Cam and Didi that the Abydonian Stargate was in the Gate Room. There was excitement in her voice. "That means Daniel was still alive after destroying Ra's ship and all of his Jaffa," she said, as Cam—after putting on his T-shirt—opened the door to her. "He succeeded—in that much, at least."

"That is good news." Cam's face looked slightly bemused. He was glad to know there was a good chance that Daniel was still alive and safe, but his fondness for Dr. Jackson didn't come anywhere near that of Sam's. Cam understood, however, that the two of them had a strong bond of friendship of several years' duration.

Didi decided to take a peek and try to contact Daniel, to see if he was still alive in the current timeframe. When she had the holographic projection of him up and running, she smiled with relief and thought to him, _"Daniel, can you hear me?"_

The answer came clearly into her mind, _"Yes, Didi, I can hear you. I guess, since we both have the Power, it enables us to communicate telepathically. From my perspective, it's been more than ten years since I last spoke to you. Did the Stargate arrive as scheduled?"_

"_Yes, Daniel, it did. Thanks. How are you doing?"_

"_I'm doing great. Sha're and I have three children now. How are all of _**you**_ doing? Did Vala get off all right?" _The concern in his voice for Vala sounded genuine and sincere.

"_Yes. She's married to another Daniel Jackson and is very happy with him."_

"_Good. I'm glad. I hope they stay happy together. Sorry, but . . . duty calls. You guys take care and let me know how Teal'c_ _and Sam fare when they get their new lives. Bye for now."_

"**End it**," Didi pronounced.

"So, how's he doing?" Cam asked. "I mean, I _saw_, but . . . I couldn't hear what you two were _thinking_ to each other . . . ." He sounded peeved.

"It's the only way I can talk to him without the Abydonians knowing about it," Didi said. "I'm sorry; I didn't leave you out intentionally. Anyway, he's doing well. He and Sha're have three children. He asked about Vala and was glad to know she's happy. . . . That's about it for now. He had to go. He said 'duty calls.' Something tells me he's a very important person in that village. . . ."

"Of course he is," said Cam. "He's wise and all-knowing," he added facetiously.

Sam thought that he sounded a little bit jealous, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to open that can of worms. She knew Colonel Mitchell had some insecurities, joining SG-1 as late in the game as he did. But he'd proven his worth time and again, and the other members of the team had a great deal of respect for him as a man and as a leader—more than they usually let on.

"Well, if Daniel's doing well," she said, "I guess I know all I need to. I'll go pass the news along to Teal'c and let the two of you finish getting ready for breakfast." She was out the door quickly.

Cam sighed after Sam left and he shook his head. "Why do I always do that?"

"You mean, get your knickers in a bind every time I pay the least bit of attention to Daniel?" Didi asked him playfully.

"It's not funny, Dee!"

"It is to me," she said, laughing lightly. "He's a good man, and, I hope, a friend. But I have absolutely no interest in him beyond that." She approached her husband, who was standing stolidly stiff—his hands on his hips, his eyes smoldering—and placed her hands on his chest. Then, gazing deeply into his blue eyes, she said huskily, "As long as I live, Cameron Mitchell, there will never be another man for me but you." She stood on tiptoes and kissed his chin.

Cam's heart and manner softened. His arms went around her and he held her to him, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Dee. It's only because you carried on a telepathic conversation with him, and I felt excluded. When you gave me the Power, I didn't think I'd be left out of anything anymore."

Didi's mouth dropped open and she looked up at him. "Do you realize what you just said?"

"What do you mean? What'd I say?"

"You have the Power, Cam. You could've entered into the conversation with us. All you had to do was put forth the effort."

"So, next time, I could—"

"Yes, my love. You could have _this_ time, too—if I'd thought about it." Didi shook her head. "It just never came up before."

Cam smiled crookedly. "From now on I'm going to butt in, so be prepared."

Didi returned his smile. "It'd be great to have you . . . honestly." She kissed his chin again and then wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, Cam. Now, let's go get breakfast. I'm starving!"

Over that day and the next, Cam and Didi went on a handful of excursions: some alone, some in company with Sam and Teal'c. Being out in the open, enjoying nature—and, in some cases, even being around other people again—gave them renewed vigor. Sam, however, appeared to be serious and introspective, despite the beauty and wonder of their surroundings—or perhaps because of them.

While touring Yellowstone National Park as a group, Sam approached Cam and Didi (who were, of course, holding hands) and asked, "Cam, could I speak to Didi alone for a few minutes?"

Cam glanced at his wife and said, "Sure." He then looked into Sam's eyes and said, "But if this is about your future, can't it wait until we return to the SGC? We're here to enjoy ourselves—to get Didi away from all that for awhile."

Didi squeezed her husband's hand and said, "It's all right, Cam. It's been a great couple of days, but . . . I can tell Sam's antsy. She has concerns and I think it's time we addressed them. Take us back."

Cam sighed. "All right, hun—if you're sure."

Didi nodded. "I'm sure."

"Then let's find some cover somewhere so we can disappear without anyone seeing us."

They made their way quickly to one of the restrooms, stepped behind the building—out of sight of other tourists—and then Cam teleported them back to the SGC—specifically to the conference room, as that was what Sam requested. It was mid-afternoon.

"Teal'c," said Sam, "if you have other things you'd rather do, you're welcome to go. But if you want to stay, that's okay, too."

"I have had little to keep me occupied over the past several days," said Teal'c. "I have had more to do _here_ than on PX5 452, but even that has been less than satisfactory, and I do not enjoy being idle. Without even O'Neill to keep me company, I feel I am becoming . . . stale—and extremely restive."

"Do you have any idea where and when _you'd_ like to go?" Sam asked him.

"Indeed I do not. I have no particular preference. If there is any universe in which a version of myself was killed in battle and his body never recovered—but with a chance of having survived—I would be more than happy to take his place, whether with a symbiote or tretonin. Whatever must be done, I will acquiesce to."

"Then let's take care of you first," said Sam. "It may take a while for us to find a place for me, even though I can think of a number of times when I _could've_ died but didn't. The problem is, most of those incidents occurred when there were witnesses. The few that _did_ happen without witnesses took place a few years ago, and I don't relish the idea of having to relive that much of my history." She shook her head. "It wasn't fun the first time around."

"Sam," said Cam, "why don't you go ahead and talk to Didi about _your_ issues, and I'll help Teal'c with his. If he and I find a place for him before you and Didi find one for you, we'll let you know before I send him off. Anyway," he added with a crooked smile, "I may need my wife's help with some of the details in getting him there."

Sam nodded. "That's fine with me, if Didi's okay with it."

Didi nodded in return and looked up at Teal'c inquiringly. "Where would you like to—"

"You may remain in the conference room," said Teal'c, "since Colonel Carter chose to come here. Colonel Mitchell and I will go to the cafeteria. It is somewhat less comfortable, but comfort has never been of great concern to a Jaffa warrior."

"And I'll be closer to my supply of raisins," put in Cam. He took his wife's hands and briefly kissed her lips. "We'll see you two at dinnertime." He then squeezed Didi's hands, winked at her, and left with Teal'c.

"You are_ so_ lucky, Didi," said Sam, taking a seat at the table after the men had left. "Cam really is a wonderful man."

"Yes, he is," Didi said, sitting next to Sam, "and from everything I've heard, so is Jack O'Neill."

Sam sighed. "You guessed."

"I didn't have to guess. With all the holographic projections of SG-1 I've viewed since I got the Power, I've seen enough to have _deduced_ it. You love him, he loves you . . . but your careers have always gotten in the way. Neither one of you was willing to beg the other to give up their career so that you could be together. And, not being really sure of each other, neither of you was willing to _volunteer _to make the sacrifice. So . . . you've been dancing around the issue for over a decade. It's time that at least one Samantha Carter and one Jack O'Neill had the opportunity to spend the rest of their lives together."

"Colonel O'Neill and I did meet another Samantha Carter once who had actually been married to Jack. It was a long time ago. She wasn't in the Air Force, so that wasn't an issue for them. But he'd died in battle. She was heartsick. She, uh, kissed Colonel O'Neill. He wasn't _her_ Jack, but he was _a_ Jack, and since it hadn't been that long since he'd died, seeing _our_ Jack was more than she could bear. Jack and I hadn't even dealt with our respective feelings for each other yet, never mind coming anywhere near confessing them . . . so her kissing him wasn't really a problem for me then."

"How did you meet her?" Didi asked, puzzled.

Sam told Didi about the special mirrors SG-1 found that allowed people to cross over into parallel worlds. "They were ultimately destroyed," she said. "Several Earths that might not have been attacked—at least, not quite so soon—were overrun by the Goa'uld because of the mirrors. We couldn't take the chance that our Earth might be invaded as well if we kept the mirrors intact."

"So, there _really are_ an infinite number of parallel worlds out there. . . ." Didi said pensively.

"Yes," Sam replied, nodding.

"Then we should be able to find a place for you somewhere. There was probably a Samantha Carter in one universe or other who died alone, out in space somewhere, whose place you could take."

"Maybe, but unless it was during the last year or two, I'm not interested. Like I said, I really don't want to relive most of what happened before then."

"You may not have to. My thought is this: If everyone who was acquainted with this theoretical Samantha Carter believes her to be dead—even if she died a few years ago—you could go to that Earth in _this timeframe_ and claim to've escaped by the skin of your teeth, crashed somewhere, and been suffering from amnesia for the past however-many years and you just barely got your memory back. And, if your plan is to resign your commission, quit the SGC and try to make a life with Jack O'Neill, it won't matter what you may or may not know about what happened on that Earth after the death of their Samantha Carter. Only the nature of the relationship the other Sam had with Jack O'Neill will be of any real importance."

"So, we just have to find a place where that's possible," Sam inferred.

"Yes. With everything that you've told me, it seems more and more likely that there is one out there somewhere. For Cam and me it will be different: he wants to resume his role as leader of SG-1, so we're going to have to find a world where that's possible. But you want to start a whole new life, outside of the SGC, where the only important factor is that Jack O'Neill was (and still is) in love with Samantha Carter, and so resigned his commission when she died."

"Can we take a look, then?" Sam asked, registering very little emotion. Didi was amazed at how cool Sam could act, considering how anxious she was to find a way to be with Jack O'Neill.

Didi took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to gather her thoughts. It was difficult to ask for something to be shown to them when they weren't even sure what they were looking for. An idea began to form in her mind. She closed her eyes and concentrated, testing the waters of her thought stream.

"**Show us—somewhere within the multi-verse, on this day and at this time—a Jack O'Neill who resigned his commission and retired from the Air Force after the death of Samantha Carter**."

The holographic projection showed Jack O'Neill sitting in a deck chair just outside of his cabin. He was holding something in his hands. "**Show us what he's holding**," Didi requested.

Sam gasped. "It's a photo of me."

"Five years," he was muttering. "Five years since I lost you, Sam, and I never—not even _once_—told you how I felt. If they could've recovered your body, at least . . . if I'd had something to bury, to say goodbye to . . . . But to lose you out there in space, with no hope of ever finding you, alive or dead . . . . I couldn't go on, Sam! I _can't_ go on." His voice choked. Didi suspected he had tears in his eyes.

"Send me there, Didi—now!"

"You don't know the story, Sam!"

"I don't care!"

"How will you explain . . .?"

"I'll think of something."

"Sam, you can't just appear out of nowhere."

Sam exhaled slowly and heavily to calm herself and then nodded. "You're right. Check and see if the Asgard are still alive in that universe. If they are, I'll claim to've hitched a ride with them."

Didi checked. The Asgard were, indeed, still alive in the alternate universe.

"Let me go, Didi. Just . . . give me a provision that I'll automatically come back here if anything goes wrong."

"What about your clothes? You can't go in standard SGC garb. If you ostensibly escaped destruction by ringing out, beaming down or using an escape pod, _and_ if you've been suffering from amnesia for five years, you're bound to've suffered hardships . . . unless you were sheltered and fed by some villagers somewhere. If you were, some type of native dress would be advisable. . . ."

"First I'd need to know what region of space she was lost in. Then I'd have to find out if there're any habitable worlds in that vicinity, and, if so, whether any of those worlds _are_ inhabited."

"Precisely. That's why I said you needed a back story. Jack and the SGC will know the general area she was lost in. They'll know what's out there. You need to prepare for that."

Sam sighed again. Her patience was exhausted. "But he's at the end of his rope!"

"From everything I've heard about Jack O'Neill, he's not the type of man who's likely to commit suicide."

"We didn't think Cam was, either," Sam reminded her.

"That Cam was stuck in a wheelchair, with no hope of _anything_ left in his life, and he lived in an authoritarian society. This Jack O'Neill doesn't." She closed her eyes. "**End it**!" she commanded. She then opened her eyes and looked at Sam again. "Even if he were to commit suicide in the next two minutes, I could send you back in time far enough to stop him. Don't forget that. But you'll need to have a believable and plausible story. He won't care about the details when he first sees you, but sooner or later he's going to ask questions—and you're going to need answers."

Didi then checked to see how, where and when the Samantha Carter from that Earth died.

"She was on board _Prometheus_ in the middle of a deadly battle with the human-form replicators," Sam said. "That didn't even happen in our universe."

"Every universe is different from every other universe in one way or another. The farther back in time you have to go to locate the initial change, the more differences you discover as you get closer to the present," Didi told her. "Each change starts a new ripple. There may be dozens of differences between our universe and this one by now."

"I'll need to know their entire back story, then," said Sam, disheartened.

"I should think you'd find that interesting."

"I do, but . . ."

"You want to be with Jack—and the sooner the better, I know. Believe me, I understand." Didi paused. "Even though Cam and I are already together—in the here and now—when we finally _do_ find a new life for ourselves, that will very probably have to change."

Sam nodded. "I know. Teal'c and I were discussing that the other day."

"We'll undoubtedly have to pretend that we barely know each other, since only you and the other clones are aware that Cam and I spent days together, getting to know each other . . . falling in love—_and_ that we're married. Pretending (publicly, anyway) that that relationship doesn't exist would be difficult to say the least. The sooner we can get started, the sooner we can actually begin our life together. But I'm not looking forward to the initial separation—even if it is temporary."

"I understand what you're saying: You and Cam fell in love on PX5 452, but most other versions of the two of you haven't even met yet. There may be _some_ that have, but, even so . . . their lives may be so completely different from those of your originals that you won't fit into them well."

"On top of that," put in Didi, "if there are some who already met and started dating, what are the chances that any of them have since died?"

"Filling _one _hole is easier than filling two at the same time, I guess," said Sam. "But I hope you can find what you need and that it won't be _too_ problematical for you."

Didi sighed. "At least we won't have to wait more than a year to get married the way Vala did."

"That's true," Sam said.

"Now, I suppose, we should get on with the business of finding your back story." Didi closed her eyes. "**Show us how the battle with the human-form replicators in the alternate universe we most recently viewed—which ended with the destruction of the **_**Prometheus**_** and the death of Samantha Carter—began**."

They watched the proceedings for about twenty minutes before Sam sighed and said, "I've seen enough. I know the difference now between what happened in that universe and what happened in ours. I think I know enough at this point to have a good back story for Jack—and I know the area of space they were in. There _are_ habitable worlds there, but I don't know if there are any inhabitants _on_ any of them."

"Let's look and see, shall we?" Didi asked to see any inhabited worlds in the area of space where the _Prometheus_ was destroyed which had a working Stargate and an intact DHD. Nothing happened.

"Look for an _un_inhabited planet with an intact Stargate and DHD," Sam suggested.

"There!" Didi said when the new request bore fruit. "This one's good."

Sam sighed. "It's probably _best_ that I go to an uninhabited world. If I were to claim to've been living in a village all this time, chances are General Landry would send people (very probably including me) to the village—even on board a ship, if necessary—to open relations with the people there. And he'd send them gifts to thank them for taking such good care of me for five years."

"I hadn't even thought of that," said Didi. "What shall we do, then?"

"The only thing I can think to do is to put me in the same kind of outfit the other Sam was wearing when she died; then you'll have to age it five years and inflict it with appropriate wear and tear, since I'll have to claim to've been wandering the planet, scrounging for food and just trying to survive."

"And you just happened on the Stargate recently," Didi brainstormed.

"And seeing it caused me to have flashes of memory—" Sam added.

"—that eventually led to your getting your memory back completely!"

Sam nodded. "It won't be easy, but I do think that's the best way to go. There won't be any way to check my story, since I won't have run into any people on my travels around the planet. . . ."

"It's too bad we have to do it that way, but we really don't have much choice," said Didi.

"It's awful," opined Sam, "lying to people we know and love, just to keep them from finding out who and what we really are. I went through it with my dad for a few years before he became a host to Selmak. It was wonderful to be able to share that part of my life with him. But Jack doesn't need to know that I'm a clone—that I'm not really _his_ Sam."

"No, he doesn't. He wants his Sam back. But since that's not possible and you're available, why not give both of you what you want most?—to be together."

"I'll just tell him that five years of living alone in the wild has made me realize what's really important. Then I'll just . . . let nature take its course."

Didi nodded. "Now we just need to get you some clothes and let you say goodbye to Teal'c."

She brought up the scene on board the _Prometheus _again and Sam said, "We have plenty of those outfits in stores here. I'll go get one on, then come back here and let you work your wonders on it."

"You'd better get the same kind of footwear while you're at it," suggested Didi. "It's possible no one will remember what kind of boots she was wearing, but you never know."

"And it's better to be safe than sorry," Sam averred. She looked at the projection again. "Got it. I'll go put on what I need and be back in a few minutes."

When Sam returned, Didi commanded that the olive drab SGC uniform and boots she was wearing be aged by five years and show evidence of five years' worth of exposure to the elements and harsh living conditions. She then gave five years' worth of wear and tear to the socks Sam had chosen, which were olive drab, like the uniform.

"Wow!" Didi said when she'd finished. "That's incredible! Let's go to the bathroom in the general's quarters and you can have a look in the full-length mirror."

After looking in said mirror, Sam appraised her appearance with a critical eye. "It's a good thing I grew my hair back out these past couple of years. If I'm supposed to've been living primitively for five years, I'd have a hard time explaining how I got a twenty-first century haircut."

"There may be one other problem, though," Didi said, chewing on her right thumbnail and pointing at Sam's legs with her left hand.

"Shaving," Sam said. "There's no way I'd've been able to find a way to shave."

"Which could be problematical," said Didi, "if they make you undergo a complete physical and your legs are seen by the doctor in the infirmary."

"There's no doubt about _that_ happening," Sam said positively. "It's standard operating procedure when someone's been missing for any length of time."

Didi sighed. "Then I'm gonna have to make you look as though you haven't shaved in months."

"Months should be enough," said Sam. "Hair only gets to be so long before it stops growing."

Didi made the request. Its success was evinced by the fact that Sam's legs and armpits began to itch. It was, to say the least, annoying.

"What about the hair on your head?" Didi queried.

"I've never let my hair grow out for more than a couple of years at a time," Sam said. "I've never worn it long for five years straight, so no one at the SGC would have any way of knowing whether my hair should be longer than it is or not."

"Still, after five years in the wild with no shampoo and no way to cut your hair, you'd probably have terrible split ends."

Sam grimaced. "Okay," she said with a sigh, "give me five years' worth of growth and weathering to my hair, too."

Didi sighed and went to work again. By the time she was finished, Sam looked dreadful.

"Wow!" the colonel said. "That's unbelievable!" She looked at the woman standing next to her. "You did a really good job, Didi!" She looked into the mirror again. "I can't believe that's me!"

"We're not finished yet, though, Sam. . . ."

"What? Why?"

"Malnutrition . . . exposure to the elements . . . weathered skin . . . broken fingernails . . ."

Sam sighed. "I'm beginning to think we should go back to using the Asgard."

Didi snapped her fingers. "I have an idea." She closed her eyes and said, "**If the Thor from Sam's target universe is available at the moment, please bring him here**."

The Asgard commander appeared. "Where am I?" he queried, looking around. "Major Carter . . . you are still alive? We had not heard—"

Sam shook her head. "Things aren't what they seem, Thor. Please . . . if you have the time, my friend Didi and I have something very important to tell you, after which I'm going to ask you to do me a very _**BIG **_favor. . . ."


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26: FINAL DESTINATIONS, TEARFUL GOODBYES

Sometime after she and Didi had consulted with Thor, Sam was ready to leave. "Let's go to the cafeteria so you can say goodbye to the guys," Didi said.

A moment later, the two women and Thor were in the cafeteria. When they arrived, Cam was engaged in the process of making physical changes to Teal'c's body. The Jaffa looked several years younger and his head was bald.

"Hi guys," said Sam.

The two men looked up from their work and their eyes opened in surprise. "Thor?" Cam queried.

"Indeed. You must be the Colonel Mitchell clone, Didina's husband. I have had a most interesting conversation with Major—or perhaps I should say, _Colonel_ Carter and your wife."

"If the Sam who died was a major, I may as well get used to being one again," said Sam.

"Especially since I already altered your dog tags accordingly," said Didi.

"So . . . what's going on?" Cam queried with a furrowed brow and a confused look.

"Thor's going to help me get situated with Colonel O'Neill," Sam replied.

"_Colonel _O'Neill. So, you're either going to the _past_ in your target universe, or you're going to a world with a very different history from ours. How's that gonna go down?" Cam asked.

"It would be simpler for you to watch one of Mrs. Mitchell's holographic projections when the time comes," said Thor, "than for any of us to try to explain what we intend to do."

"Before I go, though," said Sam, "I'd like to find out what Teal'c's planning to do. It's obvious he's going back in time a ways . . . but how far?"

"Six years," Teal'c replied. "The version of me in the alternate universe was aboard an Al'kesh with Master Bra'tac. As it was about to be destroyed by the forces of Apophus, Bra'tac ordered Teal'c to get into an escape pod and leave, while he sent the Al'kesh on what Colonel Mitchell referred to as a 'kamikaze mission' to destroy Apophus's Ha'tak. Teal'c refused to leave without Master Bra'tac and was killed by a powerful blast _before_ the Al'kesh rammed into the Ha'tak. The blast that killed Teal'c rendered Bra'tac unconscious, and he died when the two ships collided. Although severely crippled, the Ha'tak was not destroyed and Apophus survived. I wish to change these outcomes: to save Bra'tac and to destroy Apophus, along with his Ha'tak."

"I'm gonna get Teal'c some Jaffa armor, just like that worn by the dead guy," said Cam, "teleport him onto the Al'kesh—and then, after he's put Bra'tac into an escape pod and programmed the Al'kesh to ram into the Ha'tak—I'll send both Teal'c and Bra'tac (in their escape pods) to the nearest planet with a Stargate."

"From that point on," said Teal'c, "I will begin to live the life of the one who died."

"It doesn't matter to you that you'll have to relive six years of your life?" Sam queried.

"Indeed it does not. Without Master Bra'tac and myself to incite the Jaffa rebellion, the system lords ruled for many years longer in that universe than they did in ours, and Stargate Command had much more difficulty in defeating the Goa'uld. I would consider it an honor and a privilege to assist in the destruction of the system lords in a parallel universe. It was six years ago that we went to the planet Pangar, where we found the Mother of the Tok'ra and the tretonin. I have no doubt we will eventually go there in this alternate universe as well. Until then, I will once again live with a symbiote."

"I'm going to procure one for him from the Chulak of the past . . . back when they still had a tank full of 'em," said Cam.

"A lot of things may be different in that universe, Teal'c," Sam warned him.

"It is of no consequence. You know as well as anyone, Colonel Carter, that, generally speaking, I am a man of few words. If I speak only when necessary and listen carefully, it should not take me long to learn 'the lay of the land,' as it were. I will become what I am expected to be."

"Now that you know what the big guy's gonna do, Carter," said Cam, "what's with the bedraggled look?"

"As I said," Thor broke in, "it would be simpler if you were to watch and see. I must return to the Asgard home world soon. If you would say your farewells quickly, Major . . . ." He then waited while Sam said her goodbyes to Cam and Teal'c.

"I don't know if I'll ever see another version of either one of you again," she said, giving them each a hug. "But even if I do, as Vala said, they'll never take your places in my heart. Bye, guys."

Didi requested that Thor's ship enter orbit around the earth they were currently on, cloaked for security purposes; then Thor and Sam were both beamed aboard.

"**Send Thor's ship back to its own universe in the predetermined timeframe**," said Didi.

"What predetermined timeframe would that be?" Cam asked.

"Around two o'clock this afternoon," said Didi. "Colonel O'Neill was feeling pretty depressed. It just happens to be the fifth anniversary of _his_ Sam's disappearance. Sam's afraid he'll . . . do something drastic." Didi closed her eyes and said, **"Show us the initial meeting between the Sam clone and the retired Colonel Jack O'Neill in the alternate universe**."

Sam, still in her holey, worn out SGC suit, slowly approached Jack O'Neill's deck chair. Didi could almost hear Sam's heart pounding with trepidation as she cleared her throat. "Sir?" she said.

Jack stared at the photograph in his hands. "I'm going crazy," he said. "Pictures don't talk, and Sam's dead."

"No, sir, I'm not," said Sam.

"Carter?" Jack asked tentatively, almost afraid of what he might hear next.

"Yes, sir. It's me."

The former colonel got slowly to his feet and turned around even more slowly. His eyes focused on Sam, looking her up and down, taking it all in. The three clones watching the scene saw Sam swallow. Her heart was in her eyes. "Hi . . . Jack," she said hesitantly. "Thor told me you'd retired, so . . . I guess I don't have to call you 'colonel' anymore. . . ."

"Sam . . . ." Jack O'Neill croaked, a mist of tears in his eyes. He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her. "You're real," he whispered, pulling back and gazing into her eyes. "You're real." He then placed his lips on hers and kissed her with all the passion one would expect from a man who'd been denying his feelings for a woman he'd loved for more than a decade. When the kiss ended, he said, "Stay the night. Stay forever."

"I have to report to the SGC sooner or later. . . ." she pointed out.

"But not today," Jack said huskily, shaking his head.

"No," Sam replied, "not today."

"**End it**," said Didi. "I was starting to feel like a voyeur."

"Well, it looks promising," said Cam.

Didi nodded. "Yes, it does."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"**Show us the same Sam and Jack later on, when she finally gets around to telling him what happened and how she got back to Earth**," Didi requested.

Evidently, a few hours had passed. The couple was just sitting down to dinner. "I'm really glad you're here," Jack said, as he dished out tossed salad into two bowls. "I've missed you." They were both classic understatements. But then, Jack O'Neill was famous for those.

"I know," Sam replied. "I feel the same way. After five years of living on my own in the wild, I came to understand what's really important."

Jack's face registered incredulity as he sat down. "Five years, living on your own in the wild?"

"Yes," Sam said, nodding and pouring dressing on her salad. "I got off _Prometheus _in an escape pod with nothing but the clothes on my back; everyone else had already beamed down to the nearest planet. But by the time I'd exhausted every possible means of saving the ship and realized I couldn't do it, it was too badly damaged for me to be able to beam down, too; so I climbed into an escape pod. When the ship exploded, the pod got caught in the shockwave, which sent it to a different planet from the one the crew had beamed down to. They had no idea I'd survived at all. My pod landed in a thick, forested region on a world without a Stargate. On top of that, I had amnesia. Until I got my memory back, I lived off the land and just did the best I could to survive."

"Oh, she's good!" said Cam.

"Icing on the cake," said Didi.

"A convincing performance," said Teal'c.

"So, how did you get here? You said something about Thor . . .?"

Sam nodded. "Yes. When I finally got my memory back, I started working on trying to attract the attention of any ships that might be passing through the area. I discovered an ancient device of some kind, the purpose of which I never did figure out, but which emitted a steady EM pulse. It grew weaker every day, and I was afraid it would lose power completely before anyone ever found me.

"Anyway, after about thirty-eight days or so according to my reckoning, I was beamed aboard an Asgard ship—Thor's, in fact. They fed me, cleaned me up and patched me up . . . but their resources are limited when it comes to humans. I'm still a little bit worse for the wear."

"So, you said you haven't reported to the SGC yet?"

Sam shook her head. "I asked Thor to bring me straight here. I know I may get in trouble for it, but . . . after five years on my own, more than anything else . . . I just wanted to see you."

Jack's smile was soft and tender. He said, "I'll take you to the SGC tomorrow. But first we'll get you some new clothes, shampoo, a razor . . . and anything else the Asgard don't have aboard their ship. And maybe a trip to the beauty parlor. No sense in reporting for duty looking like something the cat dragged in."

"Thank you, Jack."

"'Thank you, Jack'? That's all I get?"

Sam smiled. "What do you want me to say, Jack?"

"Well . . . you know . . . ."

Sam nodded. "Yes, I do. But it'd be kind of nice if you said it first."

"You want me to say it first, huh?"

Sam looked at him almost impassively, waiting.

Jack threw his napkin onto his plate with force and said, "All right, I'll say it." He then muttered again, "I'll say it." Exhaling while gathering his courage, he slowly raised his head, looked at Sam and said, "I, uh, I, uh . . . I . . . love you, Carter."

Sam smiled again . . . facetiously this time. "I love you, too . . . _sir_."

Jack sighed. "All right, all right. Let me try it again. . . ." He gazed into Sam's eyes this time and said, "I love you, Sam."

"I love you, too, Jack," Sam replied

"Just don't expect me to say it every day."

Sam shook her head. "I won't. I never have. I just needed to know."

"Yeah, well . . . now you do. I'm a man of action, not words."

"That's certainly true," said Sam with bemusement.

"Would you like to go for a walk around the lake?" Jack asked. "It's a nice night for it. . . ."

"**End it**," said Didi, smiling with mild amusement.

"**Show us the same Sam and Jack together two days from now**," requested Cam.

Sam was seated in a lawn chair, alongside Jack, a fishing pole in her hands. "Nice, isn't it?" he was saying.

"Yes, Jack, it is. It's beautiful here." She looked over at him. "I'm glad I got my memory back, and that Thor was able to find me and bring me home."

"I had dreams about you coming home," said Jack. "I thought a lot about what I'd do if you did. I'm glad I've been able to make _most_ of what I dreamed come true—so far."

"And you'll get the rest in a few weeks," said Sam. "I just need time to get the invitations out. I have a new friend here in town that I met recently. Her name is Didina Steadman, although she prefers to be called 'Didi.' She works for her cousin in his optometrist's office. I'd like to introduce her to Colonel Mitchell. I have a feeling the two of them would really hit it off."

"So, the Didi in that world didn't move into my building," said Cam, "and she moved to Colorado Springs sooner than you planned to."

"Or maybe," countered his wife, "she _did_ move into the Grenadier Arms—sooner than expected, as you said—but maybe _Cam_ doesn't live there."

"That is a possibility," Cam admitted. "I looked at two or three places when I first came to Colorado Springs before I decided on the Grenadier Arms. That Mitchell may've made a different choice. . . . Not that it matters. If they meet at Carter and O'Neill's wedding, that's fine and dandy."

"With Sam being M.I.A. for five years and Colonel O'Neill having retired at that time, there are probably a lot of differences between there and here," said Didi. "But those differences aren't important. Sam is with Jack—just as she wanted—and that's all that matters.

"**End it**," she said. She removed her Milky Way from her pants pocket and took a generous bite or two. "Mm-mm, good!" she said, her eyes closed and a look of ecstasy on her face.

"I'm gonna go get myself a box of raisins," said Cam. "I'm feeling a bit weak myself right now. Be with you in a mo, big guy."

"Will you be assisting Colonel Mitchell with my . . . relocation?" Teal'c asked Didi.

Didi nodded. "Of course I will," she replied. "It sounds as though you're going to _need_ an extra pair of hands—especially if we're going to get you and Bra'tac off that Al'kesh before it crashes into the Ha'tak."

"Perhaps," suggested Teal'c, "the two of you could 'aid' the Al'kesh in hitting its target a bit more . . . precisely."

"You mean, like, aiming it with a bit more precision at a crucial area?"

"Indeed."

"Wouldn't that be cheating?" Cam queried as he approached the group table with a water-filled pitcher in his hand. He had a mischievous smile on his face, so they knew he was teasing.

Nonetheless, Teal'c said, "Everything we are doing is, in the strictest sense of the word, 'cheating.' When it comes to the destruction of the Goa'uld system lords, however, I have no qualms about doing so."

"Neither do I, big guy," said Cam, setting the pitcher on the table, "and I doubt Didi does, either."

Didi shook her head. "None whatsoever. We'll do what we have to do."

"All set, then?" Cam asked.

"Indeed," Teal'c replied.

"Okay. Let's do this." Cam closed his eyes and said, "**Teleport to this location a complete set of Jaffa armor that was abandoned somewhere and which will fit Teal'c perfectly**."

The armor arrived. It was damaged, but since it was necessary for it to be so anyway, they didn't attempt to repair it.

"Before he gets into the armor, Didi, do you wanna give him the pouch for the symbiote?" Cam asked, looking at her earnestly.

She nodded, slightly pale. "I really hate to do this to you, though, Teal'c."

"It is of little consequence, Mrs. Mitchell. I know the world on which the tretonin is found. I will see to it personally that SG-1 goes there and that I am with them when they do. Having a symbiote again for a short time is not the worst thing that could happen to me."

"All right, then . . . if you're sure . . . ."

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Didi placed her hands on the big man's abdomen and closed her eyes in concentration. The X-shaped opening appeared instantaneously. Fortunately for Teal'c, while Didi was busy doing that, Cam had been acquiring a symbiote for him. He had had foresight enough to ask for it to be teleported directly into the pitcher of water, where it was now swimming.

"Teal'c," said Cam, "I think it'd be best if you took the thing out of there yourself."

Teal'c gave a curt nod, opened the lid to the pitcher, reached in and took hold of the young symbiote. Didi turned her head away, not wanting to see the process of implantation. The very thought of it turned her stomach.

"It is done," said Teal'c, covering the pouch once again.

Didi blushed with embarrassment about being so squeamish.

"Do not be ashamed, Mrs. Mitchell," said Teal'c perceptively. "Few humans are able to view implantation without having a . . . negative reaction. It is quite natural for you to be repulsed by it." He then looked at Cam and said, "I will now put on the armor."

Once Teal'c was in Jaffa armor from head to toe, Cam said, "Well, I guess it's time for the three of us to teleport onto the ship and take care of business. Should we arrive immediately after the blast that killed Teal'c and knocked Bra'tac unconscious?"

"That would probably be best," said Teal'c, "—although we will not have a great deal of time in which to accomplish all that is required."

"We will if I stop time for the Ha'tak," said Didi. "Once Bra'tac is safely ensconced in an escape pod, you can set the desired course for the Al'kesh. Then Cam can use a zat to disintegrate the body of the other Teal'c, get _you_ into an escape pod, and make certain that both you and Bra'tac are safely on a nearby planet. After that, I can resume time for the Ha'tak, and Cam and I can return here."

"Why do I need to disintegrate the body of the other Teal'c?" Cam queried.

"If the Ha'tak vessel is not utterly and completely destroyed," said Teal'c, "there is a chance that some portion of the Al'kesh will also survive the explosion. We dare not risk the body of the other Teal'c being discovered. I must be the only Teal'c remaining in that universe—alive or dead."

"Of course. Leave it to my wife to think of that." He used psycho-kinesis to procure a zat, which then appeared in his right hand.

"I've had a lot of practice over the past few days making sure that all of the bases are covered," Didi said. "Even one tiny little overlooked detail could be fatal to us if we're not careful."

"You're right. Anyway, hold hands, everybody, and I'll take us onto the Al'kesh, immediately after the blast that killed Teal'c and knocked Bra'tac out." Cam closed his eyes and concentrated and suddenly they were there.

"I shall take Bra'tac to the escape pod," Teal'c volunteered.

As the Jaffa picked up the unconscious form of his longtime friend and mentor, Didi froze the Ha'tak in time. Cam fired the zat three times, and the corpse of the other Teal'c disappeared. The Teal'c clone returned to the bridge of the Al'kesh and took great care to aim the nose of the ship directly at the section of the Ha'tak that contained the huge ship's power source.

"Would it be possible for you to lower the shields of the Ha'tak vessel a few seconds prior to impact?" Teal'c asked Cam and Didi.

"Why not?" said Cam. "Didi, why don't you do that, while I find a planet we can send Teal'c and Bra'tac to safely?"

Didi nodded, closed her eyes and concentrated. "**Disable the shield generator on the Ha'tak vessel three seconds prior to its being impacted by this Al'kesh**," she said.

"Got it!" Cam declared. "There's a planet not too far from here, with an operational Stargate and DHD. You and Bra'tac should be able to get to wherever you want to go from there," he told Teal'c.

"We will very probably go to the SGC," said Teal'c. "They will be most interested to learn what we have done to Apophus this day—if indeed we are successful. And Master Bra'tac is in need of medical attention."

"Speaking of which . . . I hate to do this to you, Teal'c," said Didi, "but we're going to have to do a certain amount of damage to your body. You shouldn't come out of this completely unscathed."

"I am prepared to accept whatever wounds are necessary," said the Jaffa stoically.

"I'd do it so you don't have to," said Cam, "but I'm not sure how."

Didi nodded. "I know. Just watch, listen and learn." She closed her eyes and said, "**Duplicate in the Teal'c clone all of the wounds received by the Teal'c who was previously aboard this vessel, with the exception of any wounds that would be fatal. Make it so**."

Instantly, Teal'c doubled over with pain. Cam grabbed him and steadied him. "Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell, for not making the wounds fatal," the big man said with a sardonic smile on his face.

"Is it too much?" Didi asked. "If it's more than the symbiote can handle, I could heal a few of the more serious ones myself. . . ."

"Perhaps one or two," said Teal'c, although he sounded reluctant. "I believe slowing some of the worst of the internal bleeding might be sufficient."

"Here, let me," said Cam. "I can do _that_ much, at least." He closed his eyes, placed his hands on Teal'c's abdomen and searched for the sources of internal bleeding, stanching them by sixty percent. "I think that should do it," he said when he had finished. He then reached down and picked up both of the staff weapons that Bra'tac and the other Teal'c had left behind and handed them to the clone.

"Thank you," said Teal'c, bowing slightly. "Now I will go get into an escape pod and leave you to finish what we started." Turning to face Didi, he said, "I am most grateful for your assistance, Mrs. Mitchell. I fear it would have proven too much for Colonel Mitchell to do it all on his own."

"Yeah, there was a lot to do, and, as you pointed out, we ain't done yet," stated Cam. "Come on. I'll lock you in securely and then send both of you to the designated planet—making sure you get a safe, soft landing. Didi, you stay here. I'll rejoin you when I'm finished."

Five minutes later by Didi's reckoning, Cam returned to the bridge of the Al'kesh. "They're both on the planet, safe and sound," he told her. He then closed his eyes and concentrated, sending the Al'kesh on its preprogrammed collision course with the Ha'tak vessel, increasing its speed as much as he dared. "Now . . . unstop time and take us home, Dee!" he called out over the loud whine of the overtaxed engines. "Fast!"

Didi did as her husband asked. Moments later they were back in their room at the SGC, where they both promptly collapsed on the floor.

Didi used what little energy she had left to draw the Milky Way from her pocket, put it to her lips and lick it. It took a few seconds for her to gain sufficient strength to take an actual bite. She then pulled Cam's box of raisins from his pocket, where he had evidently put it after eating a few raisins in the pantry prior to getting the pitcher of water for the symbiote. He mumbled almost incoherently, "Thanks, hun."

Didi pushed herself to a semi-upright position (i.e., lying half-prone on one side, propped up by her elbow), opened the box she held in her hand and placed two raisins into her husband's mouth. It was all he could do to chew them. "I'm glad chocolate does most of the work for me," she told him. "I can suck on it when I'm too drained to bite or chew."

"Yeah," Cam said. Then, "More, please."

After consuming about eight raisins in all, Cam was ready to sit up, and the spark had returned to his eyes. "Wow! That was a monster overload!"

"You see how easy it is to overdo it?" Didi said. "You scolded me for it, but sometimes you can't tell when you're getting depleted."

"And sometimes you just have to do what you have to do and don't have time to worry about it," Cam admitted. "I get it now. We pushed ourselves to the limit and burned up all the enzyme."

"But we had to," said Didi. "We couldn't leave the job half done."

Cam agreed. "No, we couldn't." He sat on the floor with his knees bent, his arms encircling his legs, holding his right wrist in his left hand to close the link.

"Are you ready? Shall we take a look at our handiwork?" Didi asked.

"Sure. Why not? It'd be kind of nice to think we actually helped destroy an Apophus."

Didi smiled. Even after everything Cam—or, more precisely, his _original_—had achieved since joining SG-1, he still seemed to feel somewhat left out when it came to the Goa'uld. They had, for the most part, been wiped out before his tenure began.

"**Show us what happened when the Al'kesh we just vacated rammed into the Ha'tak vessel commanded by Apophus**," she said.

"Did he have time to escape?" Cam queried, watching closely.

"I had them frozen in time almost up to the last second. He probably believed his shield would protect them from the worst of the damage. I doubt he had time to do more than _think_ about escaping—and certainly not enough to get to an escape pod or a life vessel of any kind."

"You're right," said Cam, nodding his head, "I don't see anything small breaking away from the Ha'tak." He smiled at his wife. "Looks like we succeeded. Hooray for us! Now, how about dinner?"


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27: THE SEARCH FOR CAM AND DIDI

Didi didn't eat much. Cam had taken the time and effort to cook one of the best meals she'd had in days, and she'd been unable to do more than pick at it. Her husband, sitting across the table from her, sighed. "Kinda empty around here now that all the birds have left the nest, isn't it?" he asked insightfully.

"Yeah, it is," Didi replied. "I feel like crying."

"Then why don't you?"

"You went through all the trouble of making this fantastic dinner . . . ."

"It'll keep. And it can be warmed up. If you've got feelings you need to let out, let 'em out."

Tears welled up in Didi's eyes. Cam walked around the table, sat down and took his wife in his arms. Silent tears turned into shuddering sobs of anguish.

"Let it out, hun. Just let it all out."

Holding her, listening to her sob, feeling her body shake . . . all had an emotional impact on Cam. Tears came to _his_ eyes, too. _But he was the man. He had to be strong . . . for her._ Only problem was, he couldn't. He swore softly to himself. But it wasn't quite softly enough.

Didi looked up. A slight smile touched her lips. "You wanna cry, too?" she asked.

"No, not really," he replied gruffly, "but I may not have a choice." He laughed self-consciously.

Didi shook her head. "There's no need to be macho in front of me, Cam," she said. "I know you too well by now. As tough as you are when you're on the job, when you're alone with me, you're as soft as a marshmallow. I guess that's why I love you so much."

"Thanks a lot." His smile was brighter, his mood lighter. So was hers now.

She laughed softly. "How'd the crying get turned into laughter?"

"We are what we are, Dee: a couple of sentimental softies who are, occasionally, a little bit silly."

She laughed lightly again. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Feel better now?"

"About the birds leaving the nest, yes," she replied. She then looked into her husband's eyes and said, "But that's only part of what's been bothering me."

"Oh?"

"Cam, I . . . ." She shook her head. "I'm not even sure how to put this. . . ." She gazed at him with pleading in her eyes, hoping that, somehow, he'd know what she was thinking and feeling.

He shook his head. "Didi, I have no idea what's going through your mind, and I won't unless you tell me. Does it have something to do with our finding a new home?"

She nodded and said, "Yes, it does." Then she sighed. "Cam, you know that I'm not happy about the fact that wherever we go—whatever Earth we choose to make our home—we're going to have to go through the pretense of dating and arrange to meet each other's friends and family somewhere along the way. Then, eventually, we'll have to get formally engaged and legally Earth-married. After all the time we've spent together as husband and wife—even if it _has_ been only a few days—I don't relish the thought of having to sneak around to be together, hiding the true nature of our relationship for weeks or even months. . . ." She shook her head. "I'm not looking forward to that at all. It's probably going to take some time before we'll be able to be legally and lawfully wedded and living under the same roof.

"I wish there was a way we could establish ourselves in the new universe and then fast forward to our own future," she continued, "but we can't. We'll have to live through it day by day, just as Vala, Daniel and Teal'c have had to do, going into the past the way they did. However long it takes, it's going to be the most agonizing weeks or months I've spent since Tad told me he wanted a divorce."

Cam nodded. "I know. Like it or not, we're gonna be living apart for a while." He put a hand on her cheek and caressed it with his thumb. "But that doesn't mean we can't spend our nights together—as long as I'm not stuck off world somewhere." He smiled. "It'll just be a question of 'my place or yours.'"

Didi smiled wanly. "I've thought about that, too, and it's the only consolation I have. Falling asleep in your arms or with my head on your chest every night . . . I don't think I'd be able to go to sleep any other way—not anymore. I feel secure when I'm with you." Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "I haven't felt that way in a very. . . long . . . time."

"You told me before that you feel secure with me, and I'm glad you do. I'm just not sure I understand why. Are you telling me that, even with the Chak-tuk Power at your disposal, you don't feel safe?"

"Safety and security aren't always the same thing," Didi replied. "I could cause a mugger to have a heart attack or stroke; I could shoot lightning bolts out of my fingers and stun him. There are any number of ways that I could defend myself and keep myself safe from harm. But it's not the same thing as the feeling of absolute security I have when your arms are around me, holding me close. The feeling is . . . indescribable." She placed both hands on his chest and gazed into his eyes. "I love you so much, I can't even imagine spending _one day_ without you. But when we start our new life, you'll have to go back to being team leader of SG-1, and I'll have to go to work—sooner or later—for Eddie. I want to be there, in your apartment, waiting for you with dinner on the table every night when you come home. It's one of the ways that I, as your wife, can show you how much I love you."

Cam gave her a crooked smile. "You really _are_ an old-fashioned girl. I just made you a superb steak dinner and you've hardly touched it. How loved do you think _I _feel right now?"

Didi blushed. "I'm sorry, Cam, I—"

He shook his head. "I understand. I was just making a point."

Didi nodded. "Okay."

Cam sighed. "Whatever our new lives throw at us, we'll handle it together. I'm not going to stop being your husband just because we don't have a marriage certificate to prove it, Dee. I can't do that any more than you can. I wanna hold you in my arms at night just as much as you _want_ me to—maybe more. _I've_ never been married before. This is all still new to me; the novelty hasn't worn off yet. We've only been married for six days; the honeymoon is far from over. We'll deal with it together, Dee—all of it . . . I promise." He kissed her warmly and sweetly, the kind of kiss that always made her heart flutter.

When their lips parted, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her dinner. It began to steam.

Cam saw it and smiled at her. "With you around, who needs a microwave?"

Didi smiled back at him. "I'm ready to eat now."

Cam chuckled. "I'm glad. I'd hate for all that good food and . . . effort . . . to go to waste."

"Thank you, Cam—for everything."

"Just eat. I'm gonna check up on Teal'c."

The Jaffa warrior and his mentor were in the infirmary at the SGC, their wounds being cared for by Janet Fraiser and her colleagues. "Dr. Fraiser," said Cam. "She died a few years back in our universe, but I met another version of her that time when all those other SG-1s got stranded on our Earth. She's an incredible woman: strong-willed, determined, intelligent . . . . It's no wonder the gang all missed her so much when she died. If anyone can patch them up, she can." He paused and then commanded, "**End it**."

"_Didi, can you hear me?"_ came Daniel Jackson's voice into Didi's head.

"Daniel's trying to contact me, Cam. Could you . . . _think_ to him while I finish my dinner?"

"Sure." Cam closed his eyes. _"Didi's having dinner, Jackson. What's up?"_

"_I was wondering if you guys got Sam and Teal'c off all right."_

"_Yeah. Carter's happily engaged to Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c's with Bra'tac in the infirmary at the SGC, six years in the past."_

"_He wanted to go back that far?"_

"_It was the best time and place he could find where another Teal'c died and he was able to take his place. He saved Bra'tac's life in the process, after which we helped him to destroy Apophus."_

"_So, you had to make him younger and give him a symbiote, right?"_

"_Yep. He really didn't seem to mind all that much. He knows SG-1 will have to go to Pangar in order to get tretonin, so he wasn't all that concerned."_

"_What about you two? You find a place for yourselves yet?"_

"_We were just discussing it. We haven't really had time to look yet. Didi's pretty unhappy about having to pretend we're virtual strangers, though."_

"_Understandable. It may be a long shot, but you could check and see whether there's a universe where a _**real** _Mitchell and Didi were married on PX5 452 and then died in the arena afterward. . . ."_

"_It sounds like a _**huge**_ long shot. But I'll mention it to Didi and we'll see what happens. Thanks for the thought, though, whatever."_

"_You're welcome. Tell Didi I said 'hi' and . . . good luck to you both. Later."_

"Jackson says 'hi', wishes us luck, and says we should check and see if there's a universe where a _real_ Cam and Didi were married by the Chak-tuk and then died in the arena afterward."

"Doubtful, but possible, I suppose," Didi said thoughtfully, finishing the last of her steak.

"Was the steak cooked to your liking?" Cam asked.

"It was perfect, love," Didi replied with a soft smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"You're spoiling me, you know."

"Husband's prerogative. Anyway, you're worth it."

"I love you, Colonel Mitchell."

"I love you, too, Mrs. Mitchell. That's what this is all about. You done?"

She nodded. "Mm-hm." As Cam prepared to rise and take her plate, she said, "No, love, I'll do it myself. You made the dinner; the least I can do is clean up the mess."

Cam shook his head. "I left the kitchen a whole lot messier than you ever do. We'll clean it up together."

Didi smiled. "Okay, but I'm carrying my own dishes, and you can do the same."

About an hour later, after the dishes had been done and the kitchen and pantry thoroughly cleaned and organized, the couple walked hand in hand to the conference room. They planned to spend the rest of the evening looking at holographic projections of possible new locations for themselves and they wanted to be as comfortable as possible while doing so. The chairs in the conference room were far more comfortable than those in the cafeteria and had the added advantage of decent back support.

They sat side by side and bandied ideas back and forth as to what possibilities they should look for first. Cam opined that they should take Daniel's advice and see if a Cam and Didi existed somewhere who had actually had a Binding ceremony performed on them _prior_ to being killed in the arena.

"All right," Didi sighed. "I don't think we'll find one, but it won't take much time to search."

Cam made the command, since he was the one who wanted to look for it. Nothing happened.

"Didn't I word it right?" he asked his wife.

"You worded it just fine; it simply didn't happen." She sighed again. "Cam, you always said that you and I are unique—and we are. If we hadn't discovered we're clones and therefore unable to return home; and if I hadn't been given the Power, allowing us to find new lives for ourselves elsewhere, I doubt very much we would've bothered with the Binding ceremony. If we were the _real _Cam and Didi—in _any_ given universe—and were attracted to each other, we probably would've waited for a ship from Earth to come for us. I would've moved to Colorado Springs on the first of October (as planned) and we would've started dating. Our circumstances are different from those of every other Cam and Didi out there because we _are _clones . . . _and_ because I was given the Power to do something about it."

"I was really hoping . . . ." said Cam. "I mean, we still would've had to've gone through the whole dating and getting engaged thing for our parents—especially yours—but at least we could've shared quarters aboard ship on the way home if the rest of the team knew we were married."

"I know," Didi sighed. "It would've made the transition a _little bit_ easier, anyway."

"Maybe we should go with your original idea," said Cam, "—the one you told me about when we were on the hill outside Auburn the other day: find a universe where the lives of Cam and Didi were exactly the same as those of our originals, up to the point where SG-1 went to Planet Max. We may have to improvise our lives from that point on, but at least we wouldn't have to worry about our pasts."

Didi nodded. "All right. We'll see if there's a universe where the real Didi was abducted and taken to PX5 452 and where she and Cam died in the arena together."

She sent for the legal pad and pen and wrote out the command and the necessary parameters. She then read the written words with conviction. "**Show us what happened to SG-1 on PX5 452 from the moment they went through the Stargate to that world, in a universe that meets the following parameters: first, the lives of Colonel Cameron Mitchell and Didina Steadman were exactly the same as those of our originals **_**up to that point**_**; second, Didina Steadman was abducted by the Chak-tuk and sent into the arena with Colonel Mitchell; third, Colonel Mitchell and Didina Steadman both died in the arena. Make it so**."

At first, things seemed to be exactly the same: SG-1 was stunned the moment they came through the 'gate. They were taken and their memories were scanned into what Gor-lak had called "the memory archives." Afterward, however, things were different. The members of SG-1 were _not_ cloned. Instead—while still unconscious—they were put into what the clones had come to think of as "the common room."

"One thing we do know for sure," said Cam, "is that they went to PX5 452 on the eleventh, just as we did, since you specifically asked that our histories be the same up to that point."

It didn't take them long to discover that Gor-lak was not in charge on this world. Curious, Cam requested a projection of his own. "**Show us what Gor-lak is doing on this version of PX5 452 that we've been watching**." Nothing happened.

"I wonder . . . ." said Didi, as Cam continued to watch events with SG-1 unfold in Didi's projection. "**Pause it**," she commanded.

"What?" Cam queried.

"**If there is a universe in which the Chak-tuk developed cloning technology without the help of the elder named Gor-lak, show it to us**." Nothing happened.

"Wow," said Cam, turning his head and looking at his wife. "That's significant in and of itself."

Didi nodded. "Yes, it is. It means that Gor-lak was responsible for the cloning technology on literally every version of PX5 452 that had it. In any of the universes where they _didn't_ have it, Gor-lak doesn't exist. Whether he was never born or was killed by jealous rivals doesn't matter. Either way, he was obviously much more intelligent than the rest of the elders."

"So, what's _this_ guy's name?" Cam queried in regard to the elder who was SG-1's keeper on this alternate world.

Didi unpaused the projection and rewound it far enough to listen as the elder introduced himself to SG-1 as Kar-tok.

Didi then ran the projection in medium-fast forward up until around one-forty in the afternoon of the following day—Friday, the twelfth—at which time Sam and Teal'c and Vala and Daniel were taken to the dressing room. Once all four were in costume, Sam and Teal'c were led to the arena, while Daniel and Vala were taken to join Col. Mitchell at the overlook.

Didi paused the projection and said, "I wonder why they waited until the next day to send them to the arena, since they obviously knew their time would be limited. . . ."

"There might be two reasons for that," said Cam, "—reasons that very probably held true for us, too, despite the fact that we were clones. First off, it's possible that they simply wanted SG-1 to have a full night's rest before going into the arena, so that they'd make a better showing. Second, the games for Thursday the eleventh were probably already lined up. Even if they had wanted to make some changes to the program, the warriors who were scheduled to participate would probably not have been happy about it and wouldn't allow it to happen."

"In that case, I'm surprised the Friday games weren't already scheduled, too," said Didi.

"They probably were. But if the members of SG-1 were going to be sent into the arena before a rescue of some kind came for them, the Chak-tuk didn't have time to wait any longer, so the warriors who were scheduled to fight on Friday probably had to bite the bullet . . . or the first pair that were scheduled to fight may've been the ones that SG-1 actually fought against."

"That makes sense," said Didi. "They got themselves all psyched up to fight on Friday and didn't wanna be denied, so they chose to fight the humans rather than not fight at all. If another pair was scheduled to fight, too, they may've had to wait until the two battles with SG-1 were over."

"Very probably, although we're just speculating. Let's get back to the show."

After unpausing it, Didi slowed the projection down to normal viewing speed.

As Cam had told Didi when they were on Planet Max (the duo opting to use that designation for their _own_ PX5 452 in order to differentiate it from the alternate one), Teal'c was clad as Shaft, and Sam as Marie Curie. And, as had happened on Planet Max, Teal'c cut Sam loose and she helped him to defeat a rather formidable Chak-tuk warrior.

"I think Teal'c could've managed just fine on his own, though," said Didi.

"Yeah, he could've," Cam agreed. "I firmly believe that the only reason he cut Carter loose was because she begged him to and he didn't wanna hurt her feelings by telling her he didn't need her help."

Booing and hissing did accompany Teal'c's cutting Sam loose, and objects were actually thrown at Sam while she was attempting to distract the Chak-tuk warrior in order to give Teal'c a better opportunity to strike.

"Wow!" said Didi. "They're lucky they weren't executed on the spot! That crowd is _mad_!"

Following the event, Didi fast-forwarded again. Sam and Teal'c were taken up to the overlook, while Daniel and Vala were escorted down to the arena.

The pairing of Dorothy Gale and Indiana Jones was absurd. Despite the danger that Daniel and Vala were in, Didi couldn't help laughing.

"Yeah, I think Jackson actually _needed_ Vala's help," said Cam. "He's a better fighter than your average archaeologist, thanks to all his experience with SG-1, but Indiana Jones, he ain't—and that Chak-tuk warrior was no pushover."

By the time Daniel and Vala had finished their intense but admittedly strange battle, the audience was really in an uproar. Didi fast forwarded again. When SG-1 was returned to their room after the four contestants had changed back into their SG uniforms, Kar-tok laid into them royally. Cam told Didi what he suspected was being said, considering what Gor-lak had had to say to the clones. Didi slowed it down to viewing speed again as Kar-tok began to address Col. Mitchell. She rewound it so that they could hear the entirety of what the elder had to say.

"We've searched your memory archives, Colonel Mitchell, and have located a female from Earth with whom you will enter the arena. This female possesses no fighting ability and thus will, undoubtedly, prefer to remain bound, rather than desiring to assist you in your battle. We will pick her up tomorrow morning, and she should arrive in time to join the five of you for lunch. You and she will enter the arena tomorrow afternoon, immediately following a battle between two of our best Chak-tuk warriors. I shall bring the female here as soon as she arrives."

Didi fast forwarded again, through the remainder of Friday and the first part of Saturday. She slowed the projection down to normal viewing speed when the big door opened and a struggling, complaining blond-haired woman was pushed forcefully into the room.

"Oh my Go-sh. . . . Amy," breathed Cam. His alternate appeared to have the same reaction, although he didn't censor his language. "Pause it, Dee." Once it was done, Cam turned to look at his wife and finally told her about Amy Vandenberg and their encounter at his high school reunion.

"Before Vala and I left, I sort of . . . kissed her . . . goodbye. I invited her to come to Colorado Springs for a visit, but . . . she never did. That was over a year ago. I haven't seen her since—until now."

"**Resume**," Didi commanded without saying a word to her husband. Cam knew she wouldn't say anything until she saw how this encounter was going to play out. The two Cams were basically the same person. If the one they were watching made moves on Amy, then it meant he might still have feelings for her. If not, Didi would know she had nothing to worry about. But her demeanor worried Cam, nonetheless. She was quietly glowering, although Cam sensed that she was more hurt than angry—no doubt because he hadn't told her about Amy before when he'd talked about the reunion.

"Cameron Mitchell?" Amy exclaimed in disbelief. "I might've known you'd have something to do with this! It wasn't bad enough that the presence of you and these strange colleagues of yours ruined our high school reunion. . . . Now I find myself abducted by _aliens_ and brought _here_, where I just happen to find _you_! _What am I doing here_?"

"Good to see you, too, Amy," Col. Mitchell said dryly. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. It wasn't my idea or my doing. As to _why_ you're here . . . you and I have a date with an audience this afternoon. We're the star attractions in a fight to the death between myself and some other creature, as yet to be named or seen. You will be bound, wrists and ankles, and forced to sit by and watch while I risk life and limb to keep both of us alive."

"You've got to be kidding."

Col. Mitchell shook his head. "Afraid not." Using his head, he indicated his colleagues. "Sam and Teal'c went into the arena yesterday at two; Jackson and Vala went in right after they were finished. The guys cut the girls loose and allowed them to help with their battles, which was, from what we were told, against the rules. So, they've decided to put me into the arena with a female who won't insist on helping me fight. That would be you. As I said, I'm sorry you got dragged into this. Just have a little faith in me, and—"

"Have a little faith in you?" Amy said derisively. "You and Vala almost got the rest of us killed at the reunion that night!"

"I don't recall your being so negative about it after it was all over, Amy," spoke up Vala. "You seemed to be quite intrigued by the cloak-and-dagger aspect of the whole situation."

"And, in fact, you said you were glad that someone like me was protecting the planet," Colonel Mitchell reminded her.

"Be that as it may," said Amy testily, "after you left and I had time to think about it, I realized I'd be a fool to try to maintain any kind of a relationship with someone like you." Her voice then went from testy to belligerent as she continued, "What you guys do is _dangerous_ and I want no part of it!"

Cam couldn't help wondering who had been talking to Amy. _Some other guy who was at the reunion that night must be making moves on her, _Cam mused,_ and he's convinced her that Mitchell and his colleagues were nothing but trouble_. Cam didn't share his speculations with Didi, however.

The door to SG-1's room opened again at that moment and lunch arrived. "Get me out of here _right this minute_!" Amy yelled at the servant who was bringing in the cart. "I demand to be taken back to Earth immediately! I absolutely will _not—_under any circumstances—go into any arena with _Cameron Mitchell_!"

Fortunately, Kar-tok was right behind the servant and heard every word. He stepped forward and said, "I do not understand. Colonel Mitchell's memory archives indicated that you and he had a . . . _connection_ of sorts. Perhaps you have changed your mind about him since then. . . ."

"Yes, I have!" Amy said angrily. "I want nothing to do with Colonel Mitchell anymore."

"Very well, Miss Vandenberg; you shall be returned home. Please step out into the corridor and wait while I have a word with Colonel Mitchell."

The door closed behind Amy, and Kar-tok sighed as he spoke to Colonel Mitchell. "Miss Vandenberg will be put into a deep sleep before we take her home. When she awakens, she will be in her own dwelling place and will believe that what happened here was nothing more than a dream.

"Now, Colonel, since Miss Vandenberg has declined to go into the arena with you, we shall have to seek out another female—one who will be more . . . pliable. Tell me: do you prefer females with light-colored hair such as Miss Vandenberg and Colonel Carter have?"

"Hair color doesn't matter all that much to me," Col. Mitchell replied. "Personality and character do. I'm more likely to respond to a woman who's really _nice_ and relatively intelligent. She doesn't have to be a Brainiac like Carter, but she should be able to carry on a conversation without looking at me blankly."

Kar-tok bowed. "I shall keep that in mind when I look for a replacement. Since we will be returning Miss Vandenberg to Kansas, perhaps we will look for another female there."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with a down-to-Earth Kansas woman," said Col. Mitchell.

"Very well, then. I shall leave you to eat your midday meal and return Miss Vandenberg to her home."

"Wow," muttered Cam. "That was interesting."

"Yes, it was," said Didi. She knew now that, even if Cam and Amy did meet each other again, he would _not_ get a warm greeting from her. It was enough. "**End it**," she commanded. She had tears in her eyes as she turned to look at her husband. "I love you, Cam. It hurt, just knowing that there was another woman in your mind that the Chak-tuk thought was worth bringing to you. I was so afraid . . . ."

Cam put a hand to her cheek and gazed into her eyes. "I love you, Dee," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner about my encounter with Amy at the reunion; I should have. I just didn't think it was relevant: she wasn't an issue after I met you."

"You cared enough about me, even that soon after we met, that you didn't want me to even _know_ about her?"

"Exactly. At that point, the only woman in the world I wanted to kiss was you, Dee. Despite the goodbye kiss I gave Amy, she just didn't matter anymore. As it turned out, it _really was _a goodbye kiss. I'm not planning to invite her to the wedding."

Didi smiled softly. "I'm glad she doesn't matter anymore because . . . she's very beautiful."

"Yes, she is. And I thought she was nice . . . and, in a way, she was. But, compared to you, she's just . . . a poser. You're the real thing, Dee—the genuine article—a 'nice girl' . . . with a capital N."

"Thanks," said Didi with a slight chuckle. "It does make me wonder, though."

"About what, hun?" Cam asked.

"Why Gor-lak didn't clone Amy instead of me when _you_ needed a partner in the arena."

Cam's brow furrowed. "Good question, since none of us went into the arena on Monday. Is it possible they tried to clone Amy on Sunday night or Monday morning but couldn't for some reason?"

"Shall we take a look and see?" Didi queried.

"Just for curiosity's sake, sure," Cam agreed. He then closed his eyes and said, "**If Gor-lak attempted or intended to make a clone of Amy Vandenberg on Sunday, September fourteenth, or on Monday, September fifteenth, show us why it didn't happen**."

"Wha'd'ya know?—she's sick in bed," he said. "Well, that explains it. She was well and healthy on Saturday but came down sick after that. Since she didn't leave the house—and I didn't know exactly where in Topeka she lived—they couldn't find her. So, they evidently gave up on her and spent Tuesday wandering around Topeka looking for a replacement and found and cloned your original instead."

"Lucky me," said Didi. Cam couldn't tell whether she was being facetious or not. He looked at her slightly askance, but her face was impassive, giving nothing away. "It's getting late," she said. "We can pick up where we left off in the morning, after breakfast." She held out her hand to her husband. He took it, got to his feet and pulled her gently to hers.

After they had moved away from the chairs, Cam gathered Didi into his arms, held her close and kissed her on the head. "I know this was hard on you, Dee—seeing Amy, finding out that I used to have feelings for her. . . . On top of that, you're still dealing with the whole clone thing to some degree." He pulled back a ways and gazed tenderly into her eyes. "Never doubt my love for you, Dee. I'll never need another thing to make me happy as long as I have you."

Didi raised her head, pursed her lips and closed her eyes. Cam lowered his head and placed his lips on hers, kissing her warmly. He then picked her up and began carrying her to their room.

"We could teleport . . . ." she pointed out.

Cam shook his head. "This'll very probably be our last night here. I wanna make it last as long as possible—even if it means getting to our room the old-fashioned way."

"I love you, Cameron Mitchell."

"I know," Cam replied in true Han Solo fashion. He then opened the door to their sanctuary, entered the room, and kicked the door shut behind them.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28: THE END OF THE SEARCH

When Didi awakened the next morning—Cam beating her to it for once—she found her husband propped up on his elbow, gazing at her lovingly. "Happy anniversary, hun," he said. "We've been married an entire week."

Didi smiled. "And they said it wouldn't last!"

Cam sniggered, leaned over and kissed his wife. "You're still as beautiful as you were the day I married you."

"The day you claimed me as your mate in the arena?" Didi asked mischievously.

"Yep." He flopped back down onto his pillow, his arms behind his head. "Man, it feels like a _lot_ more than a week since then."

Now it was Didi's turn to prop herself up on her elbow. "That's because so much has happened. I doubt very many people have a single week that's as full as _ours_ has been."

"Oh, I don't know . . . the Pope when he's touring the world . . . rock stars, too . . . professional athletes during the play-offs . . . Olympic athletes . . . ."

"Okay, okay! You've made your point. But I'm not talking about _famous_ people. I'm talking about everyday, ordinary, hard-working middle class people—like us."

Cam guffawed. "Hun, you've seen some of what _I've_ done with SG-1. Ain't nothin' everyday or ordinary about it. And yeah, I've had some _weeks_ . . . ."

"Humph!" Didi grumped, lying back down and folding her arms.

"Hey, is that anyway to behave on our anniversary?" Cam asked, rolling up onto his side once again and gazing into her eyes pleadingly. "Let's not get into an argument over whether or not everything we've done over this past week can compare with the busiest weeks of the busiest people in the world." He reached out and put his hand on her cheek, turning her head so that she had to look at him. "_I_ was the one who said that it seemed like more than a week, remember? It does. It seems more like a month—maybe two. Our days and nights have been full, to say the least. But moments like these have been few enough, compared to everything else we've done.

"I love you, Dee," he continued, "and if I had my way, we'd spend an entire week in bed together." After saying this, he moved his head closer to hers and whispered, "Nothing I've ever done—nothing I've ever experienced—can compare with what I feel when I'm with you."

Didi grabbed his face and kissed him firmly. "Happy anniversary, Cam."

"Guess breakfast is gonna have to wait a while. . . ." He wrapped his arms around her, pressed his lips to hers and kissed her fervently—the prelude to the ultimate symphony. . . .

When they finally teleported to the kitchen sometime later, neither of them felt like eating a great deal. They opted for cereal. Didi had ready-to-eat; Cam made Cream of Wheat. When they had finished eating and cleaned up after themselves, they took their energy sources (Didi's Milky Way and Cam's raisins) and went once again to the conference room.

"Let's start at the point where Didina was brought to PX5 452," suggested Cam. He closed his eyes and made the request himself this time. Didi smiled. It wasn't an easy one to make, but he'd had a lot of practice while working with Teal'c the day before.

Unlike Amy, Didina wasn't struggling or belligerent when she arrived; she looked too frightened to do either—which wasn't surprising considering how _Didi_ had reacted when she'd first set eyes on _Gor-lak_. As a result, Didina wasn't forcefully pushed into the room. Rather, the door was opened and Kar-tok stretched out his hand, indicating that she should enter. She was holding a McDonald's sack.

"Pause it a sec, love," Didi requested. When Cam complied, she said, "She's wearing her Saturday grungies. She was doing housework and took a dinner break. I remember that. It was somewhere between five and five-thirty when my original went to McDonald's. She walked: it's only a block away."

"Well, it was Saturday the thirteenth when they picked Amy up and then took her back," said Cam. "Afterward they must've cruised over Kansas for a while, looking for a new partner for Mitchell."

"Considering the time difference between Com-chak-tuk and Kansas," said Didi, "the ship probably left PX5 452 at around breakfast time, making it eleven o'clock in Kansas. For the ship to have returned to PX5 452 in time for lunch, it must take about two hours—with hyper-drive—to get from here to there or there to here, either way. Amy arrived a little before noon, making it three in the afternoon in Kansas. She was returned home probably sometime after five, Kansas time, and Didina was found and picked up while on her dinner break."

"But where was she picked up _from_?" Cam asked.

"Hopefully not right in front of McDonald's," said Didi. She closed her eyes and commanded, "**Show us where the Didina Steadman we have just been watching was located at the time that she was abducted by the Chak-tuk**."

"Looks like an outdoor stairwell," Cam said.

"It's the stairwell that leads up to my apartment," Didi averred.

The stairwell was not in an open, highly-exposed area, so it wasn't difficult for a Chak-tuk elder to use his Power to surreptitiously teleport Didina directly up to the ship. She ended that projection and made a command for a new one:

"**Show us any people living in Didina's apartment complex who might've witnessed her disappearance**." Nothing happened.

Didi then looked at Cam and said, "Since all of this is different from what happened to my original, I'm going to need to know all of these things when I take her place." She sighed. "Okay, let's continue watching your projection."

"Colonel Mitchell," said Kar-tok, following the newcomer into the room, "this is Didina Steadman of Topeka, Kansas. I searched your memory archives once again to determine certain . . . parameters that we might look for. Miss Steadman seems to fit them very well."

Col. Mitchell asked about the memory archives, as it was the second time Kar-tok had mentioned the subject. Since SG-1 had been unconscious during the procedure, they had no idea what had happened to them or how it had been done. Kar-tok explained it to Col. Mitchell in much the same way that Gor-lak had told it to Cam, and he reacted in a similar manner: "Yeah, I remember it all too well."

"So do we all," said Sam.

"You'll have to tell me about that sometime," said Didi to her husband.

He paused the projection and shook his head. "No. I'm not gonna touch that one with a ten-foot pole. I'm sorry, Dee. It was one of the worst experiences of my life, and I'd just as soon forget it ever happened—which is what the people we were dealing with at the time wanted me to do in the first place. And, if you really love me and trust me, you won't go looking for it behind my back. Please."

Didi nodded. "All right," she said. It disturbed her to think that something so dreadful had happened to Cam that he couldn't even bear to think about it. She gazed at him with concern and compassion. "I promise I won't pry."

"Thank you." He looked up. "**Resume**," he commanded.

"Miss Steadman was, we believe, about to consume her evening meal. Since we took her before she had that opportunity, we allowed her to bring her food with her. While she's eating, please introduce yourself and your colleagues to her."

After the introductions were made, SG-1 tried to converse with Didina, but she was, understandably, too distraught to eat or to do much talking. For the first half hour or so, she seemed to do nothing more than listen to what the members of SG-1 had to say. She was, Cam conjectured, waiting for someone to say something encouraging or of a positive nature.

Since it had, as Didi previously surmised, taken around two hours for the Chak-tuk ship to carry Didina from Earth to PX5 452, it was now somewhere between seven and seven-thirty in the evening in Kansas and going on four-thirty on Com-Chak-tuk.

At the end of that first half hour—when Didina was finally ready to contribute to the conversation—much of what was discussed was similar in content to what the clones had talked about on Planet Max . . . with two major exceptions.

First, because Didina was _conscious _when she was brought to the room—and therefore already knew she was on an alien world—the initial conversation the _clones_ had had didn't take place in this alternate universe. The other major difference was due to the fact that—not having been on PX5 452 for as long a period of time as the clones had been—Daniel had not been able to study the book about Chak-tuk history; thus, all that he told Didina in answer to her questions about their alien captors consisted solely of what he was able to piece together by watching them.

The discussion about the Stargate took place pretty much the same as Cam and Didi remembered it. After that, Cam fast forwarded for a bit, slowing it down to viewing speed when dinner was brought for SG-1 at six. They, too, were given McDonald's meals. Cam guffawed. "Interesting. We had Wienerschnitzel hot dogs for dinner that Saturday. Her menu affected theirs." While SG-1 ate, Didina was finally able to bring herself to do the same, although her food was now cold and soggy. It didn't seem to matter much, however, as she was quite hungry by this time.

Again, the conversation was similar to those carried on by the clones on Planet Max. Not much that was said was different. Like Didi, this Didina had already made the decision to move to Colorado Springs on the first of October and seemed even more positive about it now that she knew she would have friends there.

"I never said anything like that to the _group_," said Didi, "—although I did say something similar to _you_ when we were alone."

"Well, although a lot of the same subjects are being covered, they're not being discussed in the same order or in exactly the same way, so there are bound to be differences in content. The main thing is to stop and check every few minutes to see if they're conversing about something that _we_ never did."

At seven o'clock, the servant came and got the cart, leaving SG-1 and Didina Steadman to carry on their conversation. They were now discussing the arena, the events, and the attitudes of the Chak-tuk in regard to females.

At ten-thirty, it was time for lights out. All six of them curled up on the bare floor mats. Mitchell offered to hold Didina, to help keep her warm. She was, of course, reticent at first, but when she began to shiver, she finally accepted. Col. Mitchell was lying nearby and had remained awake, just in case. Cam smiled as he watched this other version of himself lie down behind Didina and wrap his arms protectively around her. "There's definitely something there," he said to his wife. "It's obvious he likes her."

He fast-forwarded to the next morning and then slowed it down, watching with interest to see how Didina would react when she woke up, still wrapped in the colonel's arms. She awoke before he did and slid out of his embrace, which caused Mitchell to awaken and ask, "Are you all right, Didi?"

"Yes, Cam, I'm fine," she replied, getting to her feet. "Thank you for keeping me warm."

"My pleasure," he said honestly. "It kept me warm, too—which is a really good thing, since I wouldn't be very effective in the arena today if I was stiff and sore from the cold like I've been the past two days. It was a benefit to both of us. I'm a little sore, but it's not unbearable."

"So," Didina asked the group, "how did the rest of you do it?—fight in the arena after freezing on the floor all night?"

Sam seemed to nominate herself as spokesperson and said, "That's one of the reasons Vala and I decided to help the guys. We knew they were as stiff and sore as we were. Under the circumstances, we didn't think 2-against-1 was unfair at all."

"I hadn't even thought of that," said Didi. Cam paused the projection. "Did our Sam and Vala do it for the same reason? If so, why didn't they say so when we talked about it my first day there?"

"It might've been one of the reasons. They probably didn't mention it because you didn't ask that same question, not having experienced a night on that cold, bare floor the way your double here did. The circumstances were completely different for her than they were for you. Anyway, Carter isn't the kind to complain. Unless asked a direct question, she wouldn't say anything about the fact that we were all freezing while sleeping on the floor every night. As far as she was concerned, it was enough for you to know that they did it to help the guys; the reason why wasn't important. And Vala just followed Carter's lead. If Sam had said anything about it at all, I'm sure Vala would've been louder and longer in vocalizing _her _feelings on the matter."

"No doubt," Didi said with a bemused expression her lovely face.

"Feel like having lunch, hun?" Cam asked, as his stomach began to rumble.

"Sure," Didi replied.

Cam then ended the projection, after which Didi teleported them to the cafeteria and they fixed themselves cold cut sandwiches.

While they ate, they talked about what they had seen so far, and Cam speculated about what Gen. Landry might be doing back on Earth, now that more than two full days had passed since SG-1 had gone to PX5 452 and had not reported in. When they returned to the conference room after lunch, he decided to have a look and find out.

As Cam had predicted during their previous discussions, Gen. Landry had sent another team—SG-5, specifically—to PX5 452 on Saturday. SG teams were seldom deployed on the weekends, except during emergency situations, which—in Gen. Landry's estimation—this undoubtedly was.

Cam decided to see what happened to SG-5. When the new team stepped through the 'gate, they, too, were rendered unconscious and taken to a room where their memories were recorded. Afterward, they were placed in a separate cell—ironically enough, the same room in which Cam and Didi had spent three days alone together. Without the furniture, it was just big enough for the four of them.

Cam then asked to see what Kar-tok was doing while the two SG teams were conversing in their respective rooms. Not surprisingly, the Chak-tuk elder was viewing the most recent memories of SG-5. Discovering thereby that Gen. Landry was planning to send a ship after both teams if they didn't return through the 'gate by dinnertime on Sunday, Kar-tok knew he had to act quickly.

"Okay," said Cam, after ending the projection, "now we know General Landry's plan. Let's see what happened to Colonel Mitchell and Didina from the time they left the common room." He allowed Didi to start that projection going.

At one-forty on Sunday afternoon—three-forty at the SGC—Kar-tok came to take Col. Mitchell and Miss Steadman to the dressing room, while armed guards accompanied the rest of SG-1 to the overlook. SG-5, it seemed, was not invited.

"They're wearing the same outfits we wore," said Didi. "That's no surprise." She fast-forwarded a bit. Cam had a feeling things were going to be pretty much the same—for a little while, at least.

Before their turn came, the colonel and his partner witnessed a battle between two Chak-tuk warriors, just as Cam and Didi had. "I can't help wondering why, though," said Cam, "when Kar-tok knew his time was limited. He should've put Mitchell and Didina into the arena first and let the Chak-tuk warriors duke it out afterward."

"We hypothesized before that the Chak-tuk warriors probably spend a lot of time preparing themselves both mentally and physically for their events," said Didi as the battle raged on at medium viewing speed. "If so, the pair we're watching now might have actually _needed_ to go into the arena at their scheduled time. If they'd had to wait for Colonel Mitchell and Didina to finish their event first, they might very well have . . . burned out, or something."

"Maybe," Cam said. "Of course, we'll never really know unless we look. Personally, though, I don't wanna take the time to find out."

Didi nodded her agreement and fast-forwarded through the remainder of the contest. Thankfully, it was nowhere near as brutal as the one Cam had witnessed prior to his and Didi's event: neither of the participants in _this_ battle was taking performance-enhancing drugs.

When Col. Mitchell and Didina finally entered the arena as contestants, things went pretty much as expected. "They're fighting the same honkin' dinosaur," Cam said as Didi sped through the preliminaries, "—or at least the same _kind_."

The event proceeded, interestingly enough, in basically the same way as did that of Cam and Didi, with Col. Mitchell taking out one of the dinosaur's eyes, using a bundle of arrows to prop its mouth open, and sending more arrows up into its brain to stun and then kill it. Thus, when the event was over, Colonel Mitchell and Didina were still alive and he cut her loose—just as Cam had done for Didi.

Cam asked Didi to pause the projection and said, "I was wrong about that in my initial speculation concerning what might've happened. When we discussed the possibility of their dying in the arena, it was with the idea in mind that they were probably killed by the dinosaur because they didn't know each other very well—whether because Didina had only had one day in the common room with the group, or because they went into the arena as soon as she arrived. You remember that conversation?"

Didi nodded. "Yes, I do. It never occurred to us that they might've died some other way . . . but they obviously did."

"Obviously. Even though Mitchell barely knew Didina, he did his best to protect her. I don't think he's in love with her, since they didn't spend three days alone together the way we did. But you can tell he cares—especially after sleeping with his arms around her all night long. Whether she meant to or not, she got under his skin."

"Even so, it's surprising that things happened in _so much_ the same way as they did during _our_ event," said Didi. "So . . . since the dinosaur didn't kill them, how _did _they die?"

"Let's find out," said Cam.

Didi nodded. Turning her attention back to the projection, she commanded, "**Unpause**."

Once Didina was free of her bonds, she and Col. Mitchell wrapped their arms around each other, relieved to still be alive. Then, as had happened with Cam and Didi, Chak-tuk guards approached and forcefully separated them. Just as Didi had done, Didina struggled, calling out to Col. Mitchell for rescue. From that point on in the projection, however, things were _very _different.

Unlike Didi, Didina did _not_ manage to accidentally trip her opponent. He seemed to be stronger and more agile than the one with which Didi had dealt. Thus, Didina merely continued struggling, while Col. Mitchell (like Cam) drew on the guards who were attempting to take him away and dispatched them with his sword. But before he could make his way to Didina and render assistance to her, Kar-tok, growling angrily, pointed his rod at Col. Mitchell, disarmed him and sent him to his knees on the matted floor.

"Oh dear God!" Didi exclaimed, turning her head as one of the remaining guards picked up the sword Col. Mitchell had dropped and moved in to swiftly and expertly decapitate him. As Didina Steadman—screaming and sobbing—broke free of her captor and bent over the headless, prostrate form of her erstwhile protector, the same guard who had killed Mitchell drove the sword into her, killing her and pinning her body to the colonel's.

Cam, watching these events, vomited. "End it!" he cried hoarsely. Didi, with a thought and a wave of her hand, did as he requested. "My God that was horrible!" Cam said. He then closed his eyes and used his Power to clean up the mess he had made. After that, he healed himself, settling his churning stomach and soothing his irritated throat. A glass of water appeared on the table in front of him and he sipped from it slowly.

When he had fully regained his composure, he asked his wife, "Do you want the friends and family (especially the parents) of those two to have to see what I just saw?—Mitchell's _decapitated_ body, and Didina's skewered by a sword? Unless the government decided to cover it up by telling the Mitchells and the Steadmans that their children had contracted some sort of deadly and highly contagious disease or something, requiring that the bodies be cremated, I don't know _how_ they would've explained it."

"Cage fighting, maybe?" Didi suggested with a nervous laugh.

"It's as good an explanation as any, I guess," Cam returned. "Still, I wouldn't envy the Suit who had to take the tidings to the families, regardless."

"We couldn't take their places unless the rest of SG-1 didn't see what happened after the dinosaur was killed," said Didi. "I've thought all along that if we were going to take the place of a Cam and Didi who died in the arena, we'd have to claim that the Chak-tuk brought us back to life after we were slain by the dinosaur. But if the _Chak-tuk_ _themselves_ killed them—and SG-1 witnessed it—the team would wonder why in the world the Chak-tuk would bring them back to life at all. Since they'd know that nothing the SGC could send against the Chak-tuk would be a threat to them, they certainly wouldn't've figured they needed to do it for _diplomatic_ reasons."

"Let's find out if SG-1 _did_ witness it," said Cam. "There's always a possibility that they were taken back to their room immediately after the dinosaur was killed and didn't see what happened next."

"But the timing might screw everything up, anyway," protested Didi. "Unless a ship came and beamed the entire group up within, say . . . half a minute or so after they were killed, we couldn't very well just pop into the room where the rest of SG-1 is staying and wait around for a rescue. There'd be too many questions and complications with _that_ scenario, too."

"Instead of arguing the point, why don't we just have a look and see? Who knows?—maybe we'll luck out and a ship _will_ beam them up within half a minute of their demise. With Didina pinned to Colonel Mitchell the way she was, her body would probably be teleported up to the ship along with his."

Didi shuddered at the thought. She hadn't seen what happened, but the fact that Cam had vomited and the description he just gave her was enough to curdle her blood. "You look," she said. "If it was bad enough to make _you_ sick, what do you think it would do to _me_?"

"All right," Cam said reluctantly. As Didi turned her head to avoid viewing anything unpleasant, Cam steeled himself against what he knew he might see and then closed his eyes to concentrate. "**Show me at what point SG-1 was taken from the overlook and returned to their room after the dinosaur was killed by the Colonel Mitchell I just saw executed**." The view was wider and less sharp. Cam was now able to see his double and Didina Steadman, as well as SG-1 up on the overlook. SG-1 was taken from the overlook at the precise moment that Kar-tok commanded that Didina and Col. Mitchell be removed. SG-1 did _not_ witness their deaths.

After having shown what it was commanded to, the picture disappeared.

"**Now show me how soon after Colonel Mitchell and Didina Steadman were executed that a ship arrived from Earth and beamed up their bodies**." Kar-tok was in the act of ordering the remaining guards to pick up the corpses when a stream of light appeared and drew the bodies upward. The projection terminated.

"It'd be close," said Cam to his wife, "but it is doable."

"So, the ship did come for them soon after they were killed?" Didi asked, turning to face him.

"Yep. The guards didn't even have time to lay hands on the corpses before they were beamed up to the ship."

Didi sighed. "It looks like we've found ourselves a new world, then, love."

"You don't sound too happy about it. . . ."

"You know how I feel, Cam—about the pretense and the waiting . . . living a lie. . . . Even if I do move to Colorado as planned, we'll still have to pretend we barely know each other."

"We'd have to do that no matter what universe we went to. Taking the places of two people who died requires by its very nature that we lie about who and what we are and where we came from. But the people who love them never have to know that they died, as long as _we_ are capable of taking their places. And if our parents are our parents in every way except actuality, does it matter? The lives of that Cam and that Didi were the same as the lives of our originals; their parents will behave exactly the same as the parents we remember and love. Yes, it'll be hard at first, but we'll get through it . . . together."

Didi reached out a hand, ready to touch it to his cheek. He intercepted it and placed it against his lips, kissing it tenderly. "I love you more than anything in the . . . multi-verse," he said with an ironic smile. "Ain't nothin', ain't no_body_ gonna keep us apart for long. I won't allow it."

Didi sighed. "Let's do it, then. Let's make the preparations and do it."

Cam nodded. "All right. And once we're all ready to go, we'll grab a quick dinner first: no telling how long it'll be before we're allowed to eat aboard ship."

"Never mind dinner: I'm too nervous to eat another meal. Anyway, at some point we need to call General Hammond—as I discussed with Daniel on Monday—and tell him there's a Stargate here again."

"I'll make the call. But I'll have to find him first."

"You can use a holographic projection to do that. You could probably even find out his phone number and extension that way."

"You're right, I could." He smiled at her. "Thanks, hun. Now, down to business . . . ."

"I just thought of something, Cam."

"What's that, hun?"

"All the stuff we procured," Didi said. "We can't leave any of it behind. We need to get rid of it before we go. Aside from our own personal belongings that we'll need to forward to our new addresses (as it were), Sam, of necessity, left her shoulder bag, underwear, and all of her personal items behind. (Although, as you may recall, I already sent Vala all of her stuff.)

"There are bars of soap, sticks of deodorant, bottles of shampoo and conditioner, toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, brushes, razors—all the stuff Gor-lak got for us. There's also food in the kitchen and in the pantry that shouldn't be there. On top of that, our fingerprints and DNA are everywhere."

"Crap, I hadn't even thought of that!" said Cam. "But, now that you mention it, there's also stuff that's missing. As you pointed out when you brought Vala's SGC suit back, they may've taken inventory before shutting this place down. We'll have to get back the SGC gear Sam wore and restore it all to its original condition. We'll also have to find a way to replenish the coffee and sugar and stuff that we've used. The containers were all sealed and unopened when we got here, so it could be a bit difficult."

Didi bit her lip thoughtfully. "We should get Sam's stuff back, yes. But as for the coffee and other goods from the pantry . . . I don't think those will necessarily be a problem."

"How come?"

"When you call General Hammond to tell him about the Stargate, he's going to know someone was here. He won't know who or how many, but if he knows there were people here, he won't be surprised to find that the coffee and other items have been opened and used. As long as we leave them free of fingerprints and any trace of DNA, our doubles on this world should be safe enough."

Cam nodded. "You've got a point. All right, then: you take care of the _food_ we procured and yours and Sam's stuff, and I'll take care of everything else."

Didi nodded and sent what was left of the food and other kitchen-based items she had procured (with the exception of the box of raisins Cam was currently using) to the homeless shelter that was nearest to the SGC. She then contacted Sam mentally—letting her know that she was watching a holographic projection of her, as she had done with Vala—and asked her where to send her shoulder bag, underwear and personal items. Sam was with Jack at the time, so she excused herself to go to the bathroom. Once she was alone she told Didi to send the items to her apartment. She wasn't there often, but she did have one, and it would be better if Jack didn't see the items arrive out of nowhere. "I'll deal with them tomorrow," she said.

After teleporting Sam's personal items to her apartment as instructed, Didi sent for the SGC clothes she'd been wearing when Thor dropped her off at Jack O'Neill's cabin. (Didi found that they had been tossed, not surprisingly, into Jack's rubbish bin.) She restored them to their original condition and returned them—using her Power—to their respective places in the storeroom. Didi then sent her own belongings to her double's apartment on the Earth to which they would soon be going.

Cam sent all the other sundry items and toiletries—those that Daniel and Teal'c had left behind as well as his own—to his double's apartment, figuring he could sort through them later. He then cleaned and freshened all of the SGC clothes that the six had worn over the past few days and returned them to the storage shelves from whence they had come.

When that was done, he ordered that all of the garbage within the complex be bagged, bound and teleported to the nearest landfill. He then had any fingerprints and DNA left by the clones removed completely from every item and every surface within the SGC, including those on all the coins in the vending machines. Any loose coins that had been left behind he commanded to be put into the machines.

Considering all the coins they had traded in for dollars to spend at the grocery store, Cam doubted that there would be near enough in the machines to pay for all of the foodstuffs they had taken by reinserting the same coins over and over again, but there was little they could do about that right now. Of course, refilling the vending machines and having the company representatives complain that there was a shortage of money as compared to the amount of food missing from them would be one of the _last_ things the people in charge of re-opening the SGC would worry about. By that time, he and Didi would be on Earth and could send some of their own coins to the vending machines, as needed, to pay for the items they had all consumed while they were there.

When they had finished cleaning and sanitizing the entire complex—with the exception of the conference room itself—Cam said, "Now that we've taken care of all of _that_ business, where should we start in getting ourselves ready for our new lives?"

Didi sighed. "With those ridiculous costumes, of course! . . . Well, yours isn't _quite_ so ridiculous, but . . . _I_ hate being that exposed."

"You won't be for long, I promise you. Once the commander of whatever ship comes for us sees you, he'll either order someone to cover you, or he'll send us straight to ship's stores to get us some decent clothes."

"Meaning SGC garb, no doubt."

Cam smiled. "Good thing you've had time to get used to it—and you know your size."

"Okay, then . . . here we go." Didi closed her eyes and said, "**Teleport to this location the costumes that Cam and I wore in the arena one week ago, and in the same condition they were in when the battle was over**."

"Perfect!" Cam said when the outfits arrived.

"Except for the green Chak-tuk blood," said Didi. "Since SG-1 didn't see the scuffle between the other Cam and the Chak-tuk, they won't know why there's Chak-tuk blood on our outfits and it might be kind of hard to explain."

"Not really. Not if we tell them what happened to _us _rather than what happened to _their _Cam and Didi. Anyhow, the easiest way for you to be beamed aboard the ship is if you're holding on to me . . . and the story we'll have to tell about how a certain Chak-tuk elder (whose name we'll change to Kar-tok) ordered the guards to separate us, which resulted in my killing said guards, will be reason enough for you to be clinging to me afterward."

Didi nodded. "You're right, on _both_ counts. Just because they didn't _see_ what happened doesn't mean we can't _tell_ them . . . _our _version of it, anyway."

"Exactly."

Didi picked up her costume. "I really don't wanna put this thing on again. . . ." she complained.

Cam smiled. "I know. You do look great in it, though."

"I'm sure all the guys who see me on board the ship will think so, too," Didi said petulantly, "for the short time that I'm exposed. And _they won't know we're married_."

"You really know how to hit a guy where it hurts, don't you?" Cam sighed. "Just go put the dang thing on and let's get done here."

"All right," Didi said acquiescently. "See you in a few." She teleported from the room, undoubtedly going to the general's quarters. He had no doubt she would clean it again once she was dressed.

While she was gone, Cam got into the Hercules costume. He sighed and murmured to himself, "I know how you feel, Dee; I know how you feel." He looked down at the shirt, remembering that the other Mitchell had used his laces to bundle the arrows the same way _he_ had done; that was good. It meant that he wouldn't have to worry about replacing them_._ "Man, I hate this," he said as he slid into the boots.

At that moment, his wife reappeared, scantily clad. He smiled wolfishly and whistled. "There ya go!" he said.

"I'm glad you didn't react that way the first time you saw me in this. I'd've been mortified."

"I know that, and I knew it then, too," said Cam. "But it never would've happened—and not just because I was already in love with you. I may be a 'guy' in a lot of ways, but I'm not so crass as to wolf-whistle at the woman I love in a public setting. I only feel comfortable acting like that now because we're married and we're alone. It's just a game to me. I hope you know that by now."

"I got a glimpse of the 'guy' side of your nature later that evening when you offered to help me take this thing off and I wouldn't let you. You certainly acted like a guy then. Anyway, I'm not naïve, Cam, just because I choose to be good."

"I realize that." He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. "My guy-ish nature is coming out again and I'm getting distracted," he said, nibbling on her ear.

"Down, boy, down!" scolded Didi.

"Woof!" said Cam. He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. "Yeah, pretending we barely know each other is gonna be rough." He looked at her earnestly and said, "I love you, Dee—even more than I did a week ago. The more I get to know you, the truer that becomes. I've gotta be the luckiest man in the cosmos."

"I'm glad you think so," Didi said. "We could keep this thing, you know. You might enjoy it even more than that black teddy I never got around to procuring. . . ."

"Can't we have both?"

Didi smiled and laughed lightly. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I'm a man in love with a very beautiful and, may I add, smokin' hot woman. What do you want from me?"

Didi shook her head, still smiling. "I wouldn't change you if I could. I love you pretty much the way you are, Colonel Mitchell. Just don't ever stop loving me."

"Like I ever could . . . ."

Didi shrugged, more serious now. "Things happen."

Cam shook his head. "Not to us, Dee; not to us." He kissed her on the forehead and released her. "Now, it's time for the next step."

"Which is?"

"Getting the subcutaneous transponder from his body and transferring it into mine."

"Ouch! Won't that hurt?"

"Probably—a little. It's not very big, but it might . . . pinch a bit." He sighed. "I'll do it myself. I know where it's supposed to go." He closed his eyes and said, "**Immediately following his demise, remove the subcutaneous transponder from the body of the Cameron Mitchell whose decapitation I recently witnessed and transfer it to the exact same location within my body**." As he said this, he pictured that location in his mind. "**Make it so**." A moment later, he cried, "Ouch! It stings worse than I remember." He sighed again. "Oh, well, at least it's done."

"Do you need to change your dog tags in anyway?" Didi queried.

"I don't know. I'll just make the request. If they're exactly the same as mine, nothing will happen; if they're different, they'll change." He closed his eyes, took hold of his dog tags, and said, "**If these dog tags differ in any way from those worn by the Cameron Mitchell whose beheading I witnessed earlier, change them so that they are exactly like his**." He opened his eyes and looked at them. "No change," he said. "I didn't think there would be. Better to be sure, though, in any case."

"Yep. But now comes the _really_ painful part," said Didi, grimacing in advance.

"What?" Cam queried.

"We need to be in the exact same physical condition that the other Cam and Didi were in after the battle with the dinosaur was over."

"Maybe we should just request to be in the same physical condition _we_ were both in prior to our being taken back to our room on Planet Max," suggested Cam. "If we tell SG-1 and anybody else who's interested about what happened with the guards, we're going to need physical evidence of wear and tear on our own bodies to substantiate it."

Didi nodded. "You're thinking more clearly than I am today."

"Probably because you're more concerned with what's going to happen when we _leave_ here than I am," said Cam. "It'll be easier for me to get on with my life because I'm used to keeping things from my parents; you're not. But it can't be helped."

"I know," Didi said, "but knowing that it's necessary doesn't make it any easier." She sighed and then said, "So . . . let's have a re-energizing snack and then create some injuries." They then each ate some of their respective treats

"Listen, Dee," said Cam while he munched his raisins, "I've had plenty of experience using the Power over the past couple of days, so . . . let me take the lead this time, okay? I can do this—all of it—if you'll just trust me."

"I do trust you, Cam, so . . . go ahead—give us our made-to-order injuries."

"Okay. . . ." He set the box of raisins down on the table, closed his eyes and said, "**Restore to Didi and myself all the injuries and other discomforts we received while in the arena on Planet Max one week ago. Additionally, give me the same growth of facial hair that the Cameron Mitchell who died in the arena had just prior to his death. Make it so**."

Didi whined at that last request. She hated the idea of her husband being scruffy-looking again—even if it would be only _three_ days' growth of beard rather than five this time around.

"Oh, crap!" said Cam, as the requested injuries manifested themselves. "I ache all freakin' over! I'd forgotten how strenuous that was."

"Since I was tied to the pole through most of it, I wasn't all that badly injured," said Didi. "My feet and legs hurt more than anything else—probably from stomping that guard into the mat. My throat hurts, too, though, from yelling at the dinosaur."

Cam nodded. "That's fine: the other Didi yelled, too . . . though not necessarily the same things."

"We should contact Daniel one last time before we go—let him know we're on our way."

Cam sighed. "Yeah, I suppose we should."

"It'll be a three-way this time, though—if you want it to be, love."

"Just initiate it. I'll jump in when I feel the need."

"_Daniel, it's Didi. Are you there?"_

"_Yeah, I'm here. Did you guys finally find yourselves a world?"_

"_Yes, we did." _Didi then explained the entire situation to Daniel, with Cam jumping in when he felt the need, as he'd said he would.

"_All right, then," _said Daniel after he'd heard the whole story._ "Best of luck to you both. Since Didi will still have the Power for a while, I'll try to keep in touch now and then."_

"_We'll be glad to hear from you,"_ Cam lied._ "Mitchell and Mitchell out."_

"_Bye, Daniel," _said Didi_._ "So, Cam, are you ready to call General Hammond now?" she asked.

"Yeah. Let me take a look and see where he is." He made the request and the stern but friendly visage of the former SGC commander appeared before him. He was at his desk at the Pentagon.

After ending the projection, Cam picked up the telephone receiver, ready to call the Pentagon, but Didi stopped him, saying, "Cam love, I think you should disguise your voice. If General Hammond ever meets this world's version of you, he may recognize your voice. And, if all incoming calls to the Pentagon are recorded and/or monitored—which they probably are—we wouldn't want your voice to be on _tape_, either. The other Cam could get into a lot of trouble either way."

Cam nodded. "You're right. Unfortunately, I don't have one of those devices that alters a person's voice. . . ."

"You don't need one," Didi pointed out. "With the Chak-tuk Power, you could probably make yourself sound like anyone you want to—even your own father."

"How about _your_ father?" Cam suggested. "No one around here would recognize _his_ voice. . . ."

"Okay," Didi agreed, surprised by the request. "Why not? My father's name is Gregory, by the way. You might need to be that specific when making the command."

"Thanks, hun," said Cam. Closing his eyes, he then said, "**While I'm on the phone with General Hammond, make my voice sound like that of Gregory Steadman, Didi's father. Make it so**."

Picking up the telephone receiver, he called the Pentagon and waited for the connection to General Hammond's office to be completed.

"This is General Hammond."

"General, you don't know me, but I know who you are," said Cam in a voice that Didi recognized very well but which did not go with the face she was now looking at. "Just let me say," Cam continued, "that I'm a friend of the Stargate program. As such, I've been able to . . . _procure_ another Stargate which is, even now, situated in the Gate Room beneath Cheyenne Mountain. If there are people who're still interested in the program—and if you're one of them—you're welcome to come here anytime and check it out for yourself. There won't be anyone here to greet you, I'm afraid. My friends and I have had to vacate the premises for reasons of our own. May I respectfully suggest to you, sir, that if you can't get Colonel Jack O'Neill to return to the program, you might consider Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell as his replacement. He's a good man, a fine officer, and a decent pilot. Just check his record. I think you'll find it speaks for itself. Have a good day, General."

Gen. Hammond had attempted—more than once—to break into the conversation, as Cam had expected he would. He couldn't let him. He had to keep control at all times if he was going to get the entire message across. Thankfully, he succeeded. Cam was perspiring when he hung up the phone, however.

"Are you sure recommending this world's version of you was a good idea?" queried Didi with concern. "Things may be very different here."

"When you were helping Vala to find a home on Tuesday," said Cam, "I didn't spend that entire two hours in the gym. After my workout, I came to the conference room and took a look at my double, just out of curiosity. He'll do fine here at the SGC. Oh, and by the way . . . he's already dating Didi."

"That's good news! I hope things work out for them. Now, is there anything else you need to do before we leave?"

"Yeah. I need to get the zat: I'm going to disintegrate the bodies, so that the Chak-tuk won't raise them from the dead and keep them fighting in the arena for the rest of their lives, like they were planning to do with us. Once I have the zat, I'm going to completely clean and sanitize this room, like we did the rest of the complex. Then we'll get cloaked and set the parameters for the timeframe of our arrival. After that's done, we're good to go."

"Once we're aboard ship, stay close to me if you can, would you, Cam?"

"I plan to—as much as they'll let me. If I'm not given a crew assignment of some kind, I'll be by your side every minute." Closing his eyes, he sent for the zat that he had used to disintegrate the alternate Teal'c aboard the Ha'tak.

He held onto it tightly while closing his eyes and saying, "**Clean and sanitize every surface in this room and remove all fingerprints and any traces of DNA belonging to all six of the clones who have been staying here. Send my box of raisins to the apartment of the Colonel Mitchell who died in the arena. Make it so**."

Didi then closed her eyes and said, "**Send the remains of my Milky Way to the apartment of the Didina Steadman who died in the arena. Make it so."**

"What if you need one before you get home?" Cam asked her.

"I'll send for a new one from somewhere. But I can't exactly take it with me right now any more than you can take your raisins."

"True enough. Now . . . ." He looked at his wife and sighed.

"What is it, Cam?"

"You need to see the bodies, Dee," he told her.

"Why?" she asked with a quaver in her voice.

"SG-1 and everyone else on board the ship is going to expect you to be traumatized because of what supposedly happened right before we were beamed up. I know you're a good actress, hun, but even _you _might be hard put to act as upset as they'll _expect_ you to be. If you can gather enough courage to actually look at the bodies before I zat them, it should help."

"All right," Didi said weakly. "I'll look—but only for a moment."

"That should be long enough. You ready?"

"No, but . . . let's go." She wrapped her arms around Cam's waist, closing her eyes. She would open them and look at the bodies only when it was necessary.

"Okay," Cam said. "We're ready for lift-off." He closed his eyes and concentrated. "**Cloak us, shield us and teleport us to the arena on the alternate PX5 452 that we were viewing earlier. Let us arrive immediately following the deaths of Cameron Mitchell and Didina Steadman in that arena. Make it so**."

The moment they arrived, Cam said, "Look now, hun. Look!"

Didi opened her eyes and looked. She gasped and then buried her face against Cam's chest again, sobbing.

Cam exhaled deeply as he heard his wife's distress and rapidly fired the zat, disintegrating both corpses simultaneously. He then fired it again at the head. When that was done, he silently commanded the zat to return to where it had originally come from. Almost before the Chak-tuk had time to react to the invisible intrusion, Cam and Didi were caught in a beam of light. "**Uncloak us**!" Cam called quickly. A moment later, they were on the bridge of the _Apollo._


	29. Chapter 29

**PART 3: THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF CAM & DIDI**

CHAPTER 29: TRANSITION

"Cam, Didi . . . are you two all right?" Sam was asking them when they appeared.

"Yeah, we're fine. The beam-up didn't come any too soon, though," Cam replied.

"Someone get a blanket for this lady!" barked Col. Ellis, the commander of the _Apollo_.

One of the junior officers pulled open a hatch in which emergency supplies were stored for use on the bridge and removed a blanket. He brought it to Cam, who gave a nod to the young lieutenant, saying, "Thanks, Fife." He then draped the blanket lovingly over his wife's shoulders. She took hold of it and wrapped herself in it, still sobbing against her husband's chest.

"Colonel Mitchell," said Col. Ellis, "get cleaned up, put on some clean clothes, and go to the infirmary. Colonel Carter, you take our guest and do the same for her. . . ."

Didi shook her head vehemently, clinging to Cam like a frightened child.

Col. Ellis looked at Didi with concern. "She's been through quite an ordeal, hasn't she?"

"Yes, sir, she has," Cam replied. "We almost got killed down there."

"Colonel Mitchell saved Miss Steadman's life," said Sam. "She probably feels secure with him."

Col. Ellis sighed. "Very well, then. Accompany them to ship's stores and help out in any way you can. I know I can trust Colonel Mitchell to be a gentleman, but protocol dictates that he not be left alone with Miss Steadman."

"Of course," said Sam, nodding. She walked up to Cam and placed a hand on Didi's shoulder. "I can help you find some clothes that'll fit, Didi," she said. Didi nodded and turned toward Sam, shuddering as she exhaled, her sobbing abated for the moment as the trio began to leave the bridge.

"Now," said Colonel Ellis, "before we leave orbit, I've got a bone or two to pick with those aliens down there. . . ."

"Not advisable, Colonel," said Cam, stopping in his tracks and looking at the ship's commander. "The Chak-tuk have Ori-like powers that you don't wanna mess with. They could take this ship out completely with a wave of their magic rods. My advice: get the heck outta Dodge while you can."

"You're saying we should just turn tail and run without giving them due recompense for insult and injuries?" Col. Ellis countered.

"Yes, Abe, I am," Cam said determinedly. "You haven't been down there; you haven't seen what those creatures are capable of—and believe me, you don't _want _to. We'll all be debriefed by General Landry when we get to Earth and he can make a decision as to whether or not we should retaliate. I intend to advise against it."

"I tend to agree, Colonel," said Sam. "The Chak-tuk took advantage of an opportunity to make their games more interesting, nothing more."

"We're all here, safe and sound," put in Vala, "—and only slightly worse for the wear."

"We should just count our blessings and be on our way," said Daniel.

"Indeed," agreed Teal'c.

The members of SG-5 were in complete agreement with their colleagues. "Take us home, Colonel," was their consensus.

"All right," Col. Ellis conceded with a sigh. "Prepare to leave orbit and engage the hyper-drive on my mark." He then looked at Cam and the ladies again and said, "Get yourself and the lady looked after, Cameron. Dinner's available in the mess hall if you're hungry."

"Thanks, Abe." Cam wrapped an arm around Didi's shoulders and led her off the bridge with Sam walking alongside.

Behind them, the trio heard Col. Ellis say, "Engage the hyper-drive. We'll reach Earth orbit at around twenty-two-thirty hours, Mountain Daylight Time."

"You said that the beam-out didn't come any too soon," Sam commented as they headed toward ship's stores. "What happened down there after you killed the dinosaur, Cam? The guards came and took us back to the room immediately afterward, so we didn't see."

Cam told her what had _really_ happened to himself and Didi on Planet Max.

"No wonder Didi's so upset!" said Sam. "Kar-tok could've killed you in an instant if you hadn't been beamed up right then!"

"Exactly," said Cam. "It was too close for comfort. I was sure we were goners."

They had reached the ship's stores. Cam opened the door and said, "We need to get some towels and some clean clothes so we can take a shower and 'get cleaned up' (as Colonel Ellis said) before we go to the infirmary."

Didi nodded and Cam allowed the two women to enter ahead of him. "Choose whatever type of clothing you want," Sam said to Didi, "and I'll help you find it in your size."

Didi selected black pants and a black pocket tee. She also got a pair of socks, and even managed to find some boots in her size. "I think all of these should fit me," she said. "Thanks for your help, Sam."

"No problem," Sam replied. She then picked out a few items for herself. "I haven't had a bath or shower since Teal'c and I finished our event in the arena the other day, and, outside of the costume they put me in for the event, I haven't had a change of clothes, either. I'm kind of anxious to get cleaned up myself. I expect Vala will, too, when she thinks about it. Now, let's get some towels, a bar of soap, a comb and brush and a bottle of shampoo. I'm going to grab a razor, too. You're welcome to use it if you need to. Then we'll go to one of the nicer guest quarters so we can shower and change."

Once the girls had everything they needed and were ready to go, Cam said, "I'll see you ladies in a little while." He then picked up one of the blue jumpsuits for himself, along with socks, underwear, and a pair of boots.

"This isn't the best stuff in the universe," said Sam, "but it's all we have on hand, so I'm afraid we're going to have to make do." Didi nodded her understanding.

Sam took Didi to one of the V.I.P. suites, which had its own bathroom. She opened the door and allowed Didi to enter first.

"Wow!" said Didi. "This is really nice."

"Yes, it is," replied Sam as she closed the door behind them. "You go ahead and shower first and I'll ask around and see if any of the women aboard ship have any spare underwear they'd be willing to loan us for a day or two. Bras and panties aren't something they keep in ship's stores. I sometimes wish they did." She asked Didi what sizes she needed and nodded. "Got it. I'll be back as soon as I can."

After Sam left, Didi used her Power to remove the costume from her body. It'd been even more difficult to get into this time around than it had been before because of the dried-on Chak-tuk blood. Getting out of it without assistance would've been next to impossible. Fortunately, that thought did not seem to have occurred to Sam, leaving Didi free to use the Power to remove it more quickly and easily than it could've been done manually—with or without help. She ordered the costume to be removed from her body and dropped to the floor at her feet. She then removed her panties and sent them to the dirty clothes hamper in the other Didi's apartment. Now it was time to get clean. . . .

Didi walked into the bathroom and sighed. Even though she hadn't actually done anything in the arena, her body was in the same condition it had been in when she and Cam _did_ finish their event. It was streaked with sweat and spattered with green Chak-tuk blood. The way the muscles in her legs were aching, she wished she could take a nice, long soak in a Jacuzzi.

After she had thoroughly washed, shampooed and shaved herself clean, Didi wrapped the towel she had gotten from ship's stores around herself and combed out her hair. Once it was smooth and completely detangled, she slid the scrunchy back into it, exited the bathroom, and found that Sam had returned with some borrowed underwear. "These came from Lieutenant Ames," she told Didi. "She's pretty much the same size you are, so I think they should fit."

"Even if they don't fit perfectly, I'm not going to complain," said Didi as she slid into the borrowed panties. "My parents taught me never to look a gift horse in the mouth. I've always tried to be gracious and grateful for anything that people give me or loan to me. . . . Speaking of which . . . after I return home to Kansas, how can I get these things back to Lieutenant Ames?"

"She said to tell you not to worry about it. She has plenty. She's just glad to help out."

Didi smiled. "You're lucky to be able to work with people who are so helpful and friendly."

Sam nodded. "Yes, I guess I am. Nearly everyone who works in the Stargate program is really nice."

"Since I'm almost through dressing and you still have to shower, would it be all right if I head to the infirmary on my own?"

Sam nodded. "Sure." She then gave Didi instructions on how to get there.

"Thanks, Sam—for everything."

"No problem. Just . . . don't be a stranger after you move to Colorado Springs, okay? Now that we've all had a chance to get to know you, we might like to get together with you from time to time and socialize."

"I'd like that, too," said Didi, as she tied her boot laces. She then stood up and said, "I'll see you later—maybe in the mess hall if you plan to go to dinner."

Sam nodded again. "I do. See you later."

Didi left the room and headed toward the infirmary. As she rounded a corner, she spotted Cam up ahead. Except for the two of them, the corridor was empty. "Cam!" she called out.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around to see her running toward him. He smiled. "Hi, hun," he said softly as she came up alongside of him. "Feeling better?"

Didi nodded. "Yes, I am." She reached up and touched his cheek. "You're certainly _looking _a lot better. I'm glad you didn't have to keep that three days' stubble for very long."

"Yeah, me too."

"This blue jumpsuit really brings out the color of your eyes. It's wonderful."

"That's the way I felt when you were wearing that blue shirt your first day on Planet Max." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lips briefly. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get going. The sooner we get a clean bill of health from the medic, the sooner we can go to dinner. If I don't eat soon, I may pass out. I sent for my box of raisins while I was alone in the V.I.P. suite so that I could replenish the enzymes I used getting us here—even polished it off so I wouldn't have to send it back again. But it's been hours since we had lunch, and I am _really, really_ hungry."

"Hold on a sec," said Didi. "I think it's time to relieve you of that need for raisins." She put her hands on his chest, closed her eyes, removed the Power and stopped his brain from producing the enzyme. Cam felt strange as the Power was abruptly stripped away.

"I wasn't expecting you to do it so soon," he said despondently. "Now I won't be able to think to you anymore."

"_I_ can still think to _you_, though," Didi replied, putting her arm through his and encouraging him to move forward. "And I can view holographic projections to see where you are and what you're doing," she added as they walked. "That way, when we're both free tomorrow night, I can come to you."

Cam sighed. "I know why you chose to take it from me now: when there were only the six of us alone at the decommissioned SGC, there was little danger of my hurting anyone. But now that we're on a ship full of military types . . . who knows? I might actually lose my temper with someone who makes a wisecrack and do something rash. I really wish I had your self-control."

"I wish _I_ didn't need the Power anymore," said Didi, "but, until we're married and I'm ready to undo the Binding, I'm keeping it."

"I know, and I understand that. I asked you to give it to me so that I could help you with everything—getting everybody where we all needed to be. Now that that's done . . . ." He sighed again. "I'm just gonna miss being able to teleport us to exotic locations. And . . . it would've come in handy when cleaning my apartment, too."

Didi laughed. "Yeah, and I'm going to have to use it for that myself. The other me was abducted while she was in the middle of doing her household chores early yesterday evening. I'm going to have to finish it all on Monday, before and after work. I just wish I knew what to tell my friends and family about where I've been all weekend."

"If you can't think of anything, don't worry about it. General Landry should be able to come up with a cover story of some kind for you. I know it won't be easy for you to lie to your parents, but . . . if I know the general, once he understands the kind of person you are, he'll come up with something that'll be as close to the truth as possible, so that the amount of lying you'll have to do will be minimal. I know that's not much consolation, but . . . I'm afraid that's the way it'll hafta be—unless you _do_ come up with a cover story of your own."

They had reached the infirmary. Cam opened the door and ushered Didi in ahead of him. The medic on duty treated Cam's open wounds with anti-bacterial ointment and then bandaged them. Fortunately he didn't need stitches. After checking Didi out and finding no wounds of any kind, he gave both Cam and Didi analgesics: some for her sore throat, and some for the muscle aches each of them had. He then talked to Didi about her mental state.

"I understand you were sobbing uncontrollably when you and Colonel Mitchell were beamed up from the planet," he said. "How are you feeling now?"

"All right for the moment," Didi replied. "But, once I return home and reality sets in, I may very well fall apart at the seams and cry some more. I've been in shock before, and I know what it feels like. The crying I was doing when we were beamed aboard was like a release valve. It was scary down there and we were almost killed. I still have some things to deal with, but they're going to have to wait a while. For the time being I have to focus on the here and the now and try to come up with a cover story of some kind to explain my disappearance so that General Landry won't have to do it for me."

"If the general does have to create a cover story for you, I'm sure he'll do his best to make it as plausible and easy for you to deal with as possible. You're a civilian and a victim of circumstance. He's not going to want you to lie to your family and friends any more than is absolutely necessary."

Didi nodded. "That's what Colonel Mitchell told me."

"And he was right. Well," he continued, "you two are fit enough. I'll let both Colonel Ellis and General Landry know that. You can go on to the mess hall and get something to eat. Miss Steadman, I hope everything works out all right for you."

"Thank you," said Didi with a soft smile of appreciation. She and Cam then left the infirmary.

When the couple reached the mess hall, Sam was just leaving. They expressed their regret at having missed the opportunity to dine with her. "I'm sure we'll get a chance to see each other later," Colonel Carter said. "Enjoy your meal."

Dinner in the mess hall was a new experience for Didi, but not an unpleasant one. Cam recommended the Swiss steak, which recommendation Didi took; then they filled their trays with the sides and beverages of their choice. They sat across the table from each other and conversed in quiet tones, making plans—as far as was possible—for their immediate future.

When they had finished eating, Cam got up to take care of his own and Didi's trays. Returning to the table afterward, he said quietly, "Come on. Let's go back to the V.I.P. suite I was using so we can have a little privacy."

"Okay," Didi agreed, getting up from the table.

"I hope Colonel Ellis'll let us know when we come out of hyperspace," said Cam as they walked. "I'd like you to see the earth when we're on approach. It really is beautiful."

"I'm looking forward to it. I expect it's the only opportunity I'll ever have to experience it," Didi replied with a light in her eyes.

"Probably," Cam agreed. They had reached their destination. As he opened the door he asked, "How are you feeling, Dee? I know the medic already asked you that question, but . . . I know you better than he does. I want the truth." They entered the room together and sat down side by side on the bed.

"I'm all right, really. Why?"

"We're embarking on a whole new life here, hun—taking the places of two people who probably shouldn't've died. I know you've had some issues with that whole idea from the beginning, even though it was your own plan. I just wanna make sure that you're gonna be okay. Once we get to Earth and General Landry has debriefed you and you have some kind of a cover story, I expect he'll arrange for you to be taken home, while I stay behind with the rest of the gang and get debriefed along with them.

"I'm just concerned that, after you've been in your apartment for a while, you may suddenly get hit in the face with a cold, hard slap of reality and start crying your eyes out—like you told the medic. I won't be able to be there for you if you do—not for a couple of hours, anyway."

Didi shook her head. "I don't know _how_ I'm going to feel, Cam. I can't predict that. I said what I did to the medic because it _is _a possibility, and I know he was expecting me to be more traumatized than I was at that moment.

"After spending a week at the decommissioned SGC, I've had plenty of time to get over the worst of what happened to _us. _But that doesn't mean that starting on my new life is going to be easy. No matter what my parents are told about my absence, _I'm_ the one who's going to have to live with the consequences of it. I wish I could just go back in time and take the other Didi's place right after she was abducted. Then I wouldn't need a cover story because no one would know she was gone."

"You're wrong about that, hun," said Cam. "General Landry, everyone at the SGC and everyone on board the _Apollo_ would know she was gone; and that _could_ create problems for you somewhere down the line."

Didi sighed and tipped her head to one side. "I guess you're right."

"Anyway, once General Landry learns your name, he'll have a background check run on you and will undoubtedly find out that your parents reported you missing—among other things."

"What 'other things'?" Didi queried with a furrowed brow.

Cam shrugged. "He'll want to know whether you have a criminal record; a history of alcohol or drug abuse; mental or emotional instability; any connections to radical political factions or activist groups of any kind . . . stuff like that."

"Would they check to see if I have religious affiliations?"

"Possibly. If they do, the fact that you _are_ religious, coupled with the fact that your dad served aboard a carrier during Viet Nam would probably win you some brownie points."

"But . . . doing a background check on me . . . that is so unfair! I'm an honest, upright, patriotic (and discreet) person. I would _never_ violate any agreement or be disloyal in any way."

"I know that, and I'm sure the rest of SG-1 would vouch for you, too. But there are bigger fish in the sea that have to be placated, and doing a background check is S.O.P.—as is creating a cover story for situations like this."

"S-O-P? What's that?"

"Standard Operating Procedure."

"Oh, yeah." Didi sighed. "As distasteful as some of it might be, I'll do whatever I have to do to fit into this new life."

"I know; I feel the same way." Cam paused and then asked, "So, any thoughts yet as to what you might tell people about where you've been? 'Cause if you don't come up with something and General Landry's background check reveals that her parents reported her missing, he'll probably decide to send you home as a returned kidnap victim—kind of like we discussed back on Planet Max."

"Now _that_ would be a fate worse than death!" said Didi. "Chances are, even if my parents were told that I'd been debriefed and had spent several hours talking with a counselor who was on the FBI's payroll, Mom would _still_ want to take over my life and keep an eye on me until she was sure I was really okay. She might even try to keep me from moving to Colorado Springs at the end of the month—which I also mentioned back on Planet Max."

"We can't allow that!" said Cam. "So . . . please, hun—you've gotta come up with something!"

Didi bit her lip thoughtfully. "I _do _have one idea that might work."

"Let's hear it."

"If I go back in time just long enough to call the other Didi's parents on Saturday to tell them I'm flying to Colorado Springs to go apartment hunting over the weekend, would that cause any problems?"

"I wouldn't think so," Cam replied. "Unless you _were _reported missing, the people running the background check would have no way of knowing that you have Sunday brunch with your parents every week—and they won't have time to dig that deep even if they want to. And—since you're over the age of twenty-one and living on your own—if you _weren't_ reported missing, they wouldn't necessarily find it strange that your parents don't seem to be aware that you're gone. They'd probably just assume that you have an independent nature and don't contact your parents every day."

Didi nodded. "I'll do it, then: I'll go back in time to about five-thirty last night—when my double was gone to McDonald's—and I'll call her parents and tell them I'm heading to Colorado Springs and don't know when I'll be back, so they shouldn't worry about me."

"I just thought of something else you can do," said Cam with a twinkle in his eye.

"What's that?" Didi asked suspiciously.

"Your parents are bound to wonder why you didn't call at all while you were away. When they ask, you could tell them that you met _me_ while checking out the Grenadier Arms apartments and—"

"—and after that I didn't even _think_ about calling. The fact that I had a crush on you when I was twelve will make that excuse _totally_ believable."

Cam sniggered. "That'll be a good 'in' for me to become a part of your life, too."

"And I'll tell them that I forgot to take my cell phone with me . . . which is true. I don't have her cell phone. She left it at her apartment when she went to McDonald's."

"That should pretty much cover your bases with your folks. If not, you can always just play the 'I'm not a little girl anymore' card."

"Yes, I could—and I will if I have to." She sighed. "Do you think General Landry will go along with this cover story?"

Cam shrugged. "I don't see why not. It'd certainly make _his_ life easier. He won't have to get someone to take you home in the guise of a Federal agent with a kidnapping story. If you can cover your own disappearance that easily, he'll jump at it."

"Good! I'll go now, then."

"What? Why now?"

"Because that way, the situation will already be covered when General Landry initiates the background check: her parents won't have reported her missing, and that'll be a better sell for the independent-nature idea. Otherwise, if she _was_ reported missing, they may dig deeper . . . and I'd rather that didn't happen."

Cam nodded. "You're right. Go ahead and go now."

"'Kay." She closed her eyes and concentrated; then she was gone . . . but she wasn't. It was as though she wavered in the air for just a moment.

"What just happened?" Cam asked.

"I returned at the exact same moment I left—just like I did the other day when I fixed Daniel's mess at the decommissioned SGC. I wasn't gone long enough for it to matter. The timeline on _Earth_ will be affected, but nothing _here_ will be, since Colonel Ellis hasn't talked to General Landry yet and told him about me."

"Things are definitely going to be different this time around—for you and for your parents . . . or rather, _her_ parents."

"Yes, they are," Didi said, "and in spite of how weird it might be for the first few days—reliving things I've already done . . . sort of—I'm glad I'll be able to spare her family all the anguish they must've felt in the previous timeline when she didn't come home at all."

"Yeah, I feel the same way about _my_ parents—who are really _his_ parents. This isn't an easy thing to do, though, knowing what really happened."

"No, it's not," Didi agreed, "and I don't think I could've gotten through today without you."

"You wouldn't've had to. We decided the day we confessed our love for each other that, no matter where we went, we would go together. That's not gonna change.

"As soon as we feel we've been 'dating' long enough, we're going to get engaged and have that Kansas wedding we talked about—even if it's just a small, intimate one—for the sake of my folks, since they've never had a chance to see me get married."

"I agree: I wouldn't want to deprive them of witnessing the only wedding you'll very probably ever have."

"It's still our one-week anniversary," Cam reminded her, "—even if we have gone back in time. I love you, Dee—no matter what universe, no matter what timeframe we find ourselves in. I will always love you." He gazed at her tenderly and then pressed his lips to hers and kissed her sweetly.

In the middle of said kiss, they heard Col. Ellis' voice booming over the intercom. "Attention all hands! We are about to exit hyperspace. Colonel Mitchell, if you know where Ms. Steadman is, you may want to bring her to the bridge so that she can see what Earth looks like from space. It'll be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her."

They were out the door before the ship's commanding officer had even uttered Cam's name.

It took them less than three minutes to get to the bridge. Didi's eyes were wide and bright as the duo approached the huge "window" that showed them what was outside. "Oh Cam!" Didi breathed. "It is _so_ beautiful! I never imagined the scope . . . the sheer _magnificence_ of it!"

Col. Ellis leaned over and asked Daniel, "Dr. Jackson, is there something going on between those two already? I was under the impression that they just met yesterday. . . ."

"Well," said Daniel, "they did almost die together in the arena. I suppose that could've formed a bond of sorts between them. Colonel Mitchell saved Didi's life; that's gotta make him look pretty good in her eyes."

"And she's planning to move to Colorado Springs on the first of October," said Vala.

"Really?" replied Col. Ellis. "That should make things interesting for Colonel Mitchell—if he's not averse to having her around."

"I don't think he is," put in Sam. "They're both from Kansas; they have that in common. I have a feeling that Didi might be exactly the kind of woman Cameron needs in his life."

"They make an adorable couple," said Vala.

"Don't you have an opinion, Teal'c?" Col. Ellis queried.

"Indeed. I agree with Colonel Carter. After watching them together in our prison cell and in the arena this afternoon, I believe it would be a good match for both of them."

Col. Ellis nodded his head in contemplative acknowledgment and then barked to his communications officer, "Get me General Landry at the SGC."

"I have him, sir," came the reply.

"General Landry, this is Colonel Ellis. We have both SG-1 and SG-5 safely aboard, plus another passenger: a woman by the name of Didina Steadman, from Topeka, Kansas. She was evidently abducted from her home by the same aliens who were holding your teams captive."

"_Is anyone injured?"_ Gen. Landry's voice inquired.

"No, sir. Colonel Mitchell and Miss Steadman sustained minor injuries, but they've been taken care of by our medical staff aboard ship. No one is really much worse for the wear, and they all seem to be in pretty good spirits, although they do plan to recommend giving the aliens—what were they called, Colonel Carter?"

"Chak-tuk," Sam replied.

"They think we should give these Chak-tuk a wide berth, sir. I've been told they have Ori-like powers, and that we probably shouldn't mess around with them."

"_Is this true, Colonel Carter?"_

"Yes, sir. We'll give you more details during our debriefing."

"_Fine. Do we need to create a cover story for Ms. Steadman?—or should we just let her sign a nondisclosure agreement and drop her off home?"_

"Uh, General . . ." said Cam, hurrying to the communications console.

"_Yes, Colonel Mitchell?"_

"Ms. Steadman was abducted at around five-forty yesterday. She's been gone long enough for _some_ people to've missed her and wonder where she's been. Who and how many, we have no way of knowing. Fortunately, though, she's come up with a cover story of her own that she'd like to use—with your approval."

"_Sounds good. We'll have a nice, long chat and she can tell me all about it when she arrives. In the meantime, I'll prepare a document for her to sign."_

"She's standing right here beside me, sir. She's prepared to do whatever is necessary."

"_Thank you, Colonel Mitchell. Colonel Ellis, how long until you're within beaming range of the SGC?"_

"No more than five minutes, sir. We'll get both teams ready to go."

"_Good! I'm looking forward to hearing what they have to say. Landry out."_

"Colonel Mitchell, take your team—and Miss Steadman—and prepare for beam-out. I'll contact SG-5 and give them the same message."

Cam nodded. "All right. Come on, gang—let's go."

When beamed into the Gate Room with the two SG teams, Didi pretended to be awed by the sight of both the Stargate and the room itself. Once again Cam was grateful that Didi had some acting experience. She never ceased to amaze him. With her ability she could've been a con artist. To the contrary, however, she was one of the most honest and upright people he had ever known. Those qualities were the reasons she found the need for pretense and deception so unsettling, even though she understood _why_ it was necessary.

She walked slowly up the ramp, reached out a hand and touched the giant ring. "It's incredible!" she said. "I wish I could see it when it's activated."

"Maybe sometime we'll let you have that opportunity," said Gen. Landry from the bottom of the ramp. He had come out of the control room upon their arrival. He introduced himself to Didi, took her into his office and invited her to take a seat.

"Thank you, General."

"So, Ms. Steadman," he began as he sat down in his own chair behind his desk, "Colonel Mitchell informed me that you have an idea about what you might tell your family and friends in regard to why you've been missing since yesterday evening."

Didi nodded. "Yes, General, I do."

"I'd like to hear it, but first . . . How is it, Ms. Steadman, that you're so calm and level-headed after everything you've been through this weekend?"

"Colonel Mitchell and I talked together a lot while we were aboard the ship. He helped me to see that I can get on with my life—that I don't have to let what happened turn me into a mental case. As it is, the whole experience feels unreal to me—almost _sur_real. Once I get home and go back to work, I don't think I'll have much in the way of residual after effects. If I do—if shock sets in—I'll take a day or two off work and deal with it as best I can."

"Would it help if I sent Colonel Mitchell home to Kansas for a week so that he can be close by and check up on you from time to time?"

"Yes, sir, it would. If I do go into shock, I'll need some support, and he's the only one who really understands everything that I've been through."

Gen. Landry nodded and then said, "That's probably true. I'll talk to him about it later. Now, tell me your cover story."

"I'm planning to move here, to Colorado Springs, on the first of October—to go to work for my cousin, Eddie, in his optometrist's office, so . . . I thought I'd tell my parents that I caught a flight right after dinner on Saturday and spent all day Sunday looking at apartments."

"Are you normally that impulsive?"

"I'm hoping that I can present it in such a way that it will sound less like an _impulse _and more like an _opportunity_ that I couldn't pass up."

"And what answer will you give if they ask you why you didn't phone while you were gone?"

Didi smiled sheepishly. "That I met Colonel Mitchell while taking a look at the Grenadier Arms apartments and was . . . distracted. My parents know I had a crush on Cameron Mitchell—the George Washington High School All-State quarterback—when I was twelve, so it won't come as a complete surprise to them."

Gen. Landry's eyebrows went up. "Does Colonel Mitchell know that you intend to use him as your excuse for not phoning?"

"It was _his_ idea, sir."

"Really." It sounded more like a statement than a question. The general's facial expression was deadpan, his voice equally so. Didi, however, sensed amusement behind the general's cool demeanor

"When I came up with the flying-to-Colorado-Springs-to-look-at-apartments scenario," Didi elucidated, "Colonel Mitchell, too, was concerned about what I would say if my parents asked why I hadn't phoned. And, since I'd told him about the crush I had on him—and because there's going to be a vacancy in his apartment building on the first of the month—he volunteered to be my alibi."

"Knowing Colonel Mitchell, that doesn't surprise me," stated Gen. Landry with just the trace of a smile on his face. "So, are you really planning to look into the Grenadier Arms apartments?"

"Yes, sir, I am. Colonel Mitchell says he wants me to put in an application there."

General Landry chuckled. "That doesn't surprise me, either. But are you certain you want to be around Colonel Mitchell that much? Seeing him all the time may be a constant reminder of what you've been through."

Didi shook her head. "On the contrary: I prefer to focus on the _positive_ aspects of what happened rather than on the negative. I believe that seeing Colonel Mitchell on a regular basis will remind me of how heroically he fought to save my life. He's an extraordinary man; I admire him tremendously."

Gen. Landry nodded. "Yes, he is a good man. I've known few better—his somewhat headstrong nature notwithstanding." He pushed the nondisclosure agreement across the desk to Didi, explained it to her in layman's terms, and gave her a pen with which to sign it. "We'll have Colonel Ellis beam you back up to the _Apollo_ and take you home. Just give him your address in Topeka and he'll get you there."

"General, how did you know—"

"That you're from Topeka? When Colonel Ellis told me your name, I had a background check run on you, just to be on the safe side. No bells, no whistles . . . that's good. It means we can trust you with our little secret."

Didi smiled. "I'm glad you feel that way, sir, and I promise you, you can trust me. I appreciate everything your people have done for me today—especially Colonel Mitchell and Colonel Ellis."

"We're all glad to be of service," said the general. He got to his feet and held out a hand. "It was good meeting you, Ms. Steadman. If you ever get tired of working for your cousin, you might think about applying for a job here at the SGC. You have good skills and an educational background that might come in handy with some of these people . . . especially the child psychology," he quipped.

"Thank you, General. And please . . . don't be too hard on Colonel Mitchell when you debrief him. He saved my life twice today. I wouldn't want him to get into trouble for it."

"I have no intention of giving Colonel Mitchell a hard time. Believe me, I know very well what that young man is capable of. I'll have Colonel Ellis beam you back up to the _Apollo_ and take you home. Just give him your address in Topeka and he'll get you there."

"Thank you again, General—for everything.

"Have a safe trip home, Ms. Steadman, and Godspeed."


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30: CHANGES

It was nearing one a.m. on Monday, September fifteenth, CDT, when it happened.

Didi was on the bridge of the _Apollo_ once more, gazing out the huge "window" as the ship carried her toward the other Didi's apartment in Topeka. She was quiet and contemplative, thinking about what tomorrow would bring.

Suddenly, an excruciating pain gripped her chest and yanked at the very fiber of her being. It felt as though a fist were squeezing her heart and trying to rip it from her body. It only took an instant for her to understand why.

"_**If this pain is being caused by the Binding Gor-lak put on Cam and me, undo it now!"**_ she screamed inside her head.

A moment later, the pain began to subside. Didi exhaled, panting and perspiring like a pregnant woman in labor. She was certain that Cam must have felt it, too.

"Are you all right, Ms. Steadman?" Col. Ellis queried with concern.

"I'll be fine," she replied, still breathless. "I think I just had a bad reaction to the onions on the Swiss steak. I should've known better. It tasted really good, but . . . I have trouble with onions."

Col. Ellis nodded guardedly. "If you're sure that's all it is . . . ."

"I'm sure," Didi said. _It's amazing_, she thought, _how easy it's becoming to lie already._ She was beginning to understand how the others did it—the SG teams. When you have a secret that you don't want anyone else to know—for whatever reason—you lie to protect that secret _and_ the people you care about who might be hurt or compromised if the secret were known. So it was with the Binding. No one in this universe needed to know about it . . . especially now that it was gone.

_Gone!_ She wanted to cry, but she couldn't—not here, not now. But Cam needed to know what had happened. She would tell him telepathically as soon as she regained her composure. . . .

Meanwhile, back at the SGC, Cam, too, had indeed felt the pain of separation caused by the Binding with which he was linked to the woman he loved. To the others sitting around the table—SG-1, SG-5 and Gen. Landry—it appeared as though he was having a heart attack or that he was severely dyspeptic.

"Colonel Mitchell," spoke up Gen. Landry, "are you ill?"

"I am feeling a bit . . . off, sir," Cam replied. "With your permission, I'd like to go to the head."

"Of course, Colonel. If you don't get feeling better within the next fifteen or twenty minutes, I want you to report to the infirmary."

"Yes, sir," said Cam, getting to his feet. He was already starting to feel better; whatever it was, it had passed. But it had left him feeling different somehow . . . empty in a way that he'd never felt before.

Just as he entered the restroom, he heard Didi's voice inside his head. _The Binding? That gawd-awful pain was caused by the _**Binding**_?_ Cam sank to the tiled floor as the full impact of the revelation hit him. _We couldn't be separated,_ he thought. _When we got too far away from each other, it . . . stretched the limits of the Binding. Oh God, Didi! I wish I could tell you that it's all right. You did what you had to do. We'll get through it . . . somehow. We'll get through it._

Taking a deep breath and exhaling, Cam got to his feet, splashed water on his face, dried it, and then headed back to the conference room.

"Are you feeling better, Colonel?" Gen. Landry asked as he entered.

"Somewhat," Cam replied honestly. Physically, he was fine now; emotionally, however, was another matter entirely.

"Well, I won't keep you long, then. Just finish making your statement and I'll let you go."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it."

"So," said Gen. Landry, "what exactly happened with you and Ms. Steadman and the Chak-tuk?"

A few minutes later, Col. Ellis told Didi that they had reached the vicinity of Topeka, Kansas. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"Yes," said Didi. "I'm ready."

Shortly thereafter, she was standing in her own living room—and it really did _feel _like her own living room. It was, however, completely dark. It had still been fairly light outside when the other Didina had left, so she had not turned on a lamp as yet.

Now that she was home—despite the fact that it was after one a.m. and she was exhausted—she had to go to Cam's apartment. She had to talk to him about what had happened. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to know that he understood.

Before leaving, however, she went to her bedroom and knelt to pray. After what had happened on the way here, she needed help . . . and reassurance.

"Dear Lord," she prayed, "although I know that—because the Binding is gone—Cam and I have no choice but to separate, I'm still very much in love with him! Please, Lord, give us the patience and the strength to endure this forced separation until a reasonable amount of time has passed and we can be married here on Earth."

As she closed her prayer, she felt a warm glow of love, peace and acceptance. Clone or not, she knew that God loved her every bit as much as He did any of the other Didina Steadmans who existed in the multi-verse. Her crying ceased. It was time to go to Cam's apartment.

She found the Milky Way that she had sent from the decommissioned SGC sitting on the coffee table, which is where she had intended it to go. She took a bite, folded the wrapper over it, and stuffed it into the pocket of the black SGC-issued pants she was wearing. She then closed her eyes and said, "**Teleport me, at this moment in time, to Cam's apartment in Colorado Springs **_**in this universe**_."

A moment later, she was there. It was, of course, quite dark. "**Turn on the nearest table lamp**," she ordered. Even though she had been to Cam's original's apartment twice before—and this one was an exact duplicate of that one—she didn't know the layout well enough to try to move around in the dark.

Once the table lamp next to the sofa was lit, she made her way to the sofa and sat down. She then closed her eyes and sent a mental message to the man she loved. _"Cam, I'm in your apartment, waiting for you. I know you're aware of what happened earlier, but we need to talk about it. I love you."_

The apartment door opened at that moment and Cam stepped inside. "I love you, too, Dee," he said as he closed the door behind him. He was dressed in blue jeans and his usual black pocket T. They must've been in the other Cam's locker since Thursday.

Having been busy sending her telepathic message to him, Didi hadn't heard his key in the lock or the opening of the door. When she heard his voice, she jumped up from the sofa, ran to him, threw herself into his arms, laid her head on his chest and sighed.

He held her close and kissed the top of her head. "Let's sit down, Dee," he said softly. "You said we needed to talk about what happened, and I agree—we do." They walked to the sofa with their arms around each other and sat down side by side. Cam wrapped an arm around Didi's shoulders and she laid her head against his chest.

"I didn't want to do it, Cam," she said. "I didn't want to undo the Binding . . . but I had no choice."

"I know that, Dee. I felt the pain, and I understood what you told me in my mind. I was in the head—the restroom—when you spoke to me telepathically. I heard the anguish in your mind—the crying you wanted to do but couldn't because you had an audience. If I'd still had the Power, I would've told you that it was okay—that I understood," he said compassionately. "I wanted to tell you, but I had no way to reach you."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I was beginning to wish myself that I hadn't taken the Power from you yet."

"It's okay. What's done is done."

"Then you understand," Didi said.

"What?—that our marriage is over? Yes. Automatic annulment. I've thought about little else all night."

"I'm sorry, Cam." She told him about her prayer and the feeling of peace she had received.

"I wondered what happened: a feeling of peace came over me while I was on the way home, too," he said. "It makes me feel like I can live with the separation—for a little while, anyway."

"All we've gotta to do now is pretend that we just met last night, since my cover story of having spent the weekend apartment hunting here in Colorado Springs is already in place."

"Speaking of which . . . the apartment manager here is Mrs. Granger. You may want to mention her by name. It'll add authenticity to your story."

"Thanks, love. I'll remember that."

"Did General Landry tell you that he's letting me spend this week at home in Kansas?"

Didi looked up at him and nodded. "Yes, he did. He said he wants you to check up on me and make sure I'm not going into shock or anything."

"Yeah, that's what he told me, too." He smiled. "He doesn't know you've had an entire week to get over what happened to _us _in the arena."

"When we were beamed aboard the _Apollo_, I was only traumatized by what happened to the other Cam and Didi. It was awful!"

"I know, but we can't dwell on that. We're here now, taking their places. It's time to put the past behind us as much as possible and get on with our lives.

"So, I was wondering: since I'm going to be in Kansas for a week—instead of going through the 'gate and encountering hostile aliens—how about giving me back the Chak-tuk Power 'til my vacation is over? That way, if we wanna talk to each other discreetly, we can—by using telepathy. There are bound to be things we'd like to say to each other that we don't want anyone else to overhear, and since I'm going to be around my parents most of the time while I'm there, I won't have a great deal of privacy. Using telepathy is a perfect solution.

"But, before I return to Colorado Springs when my vacation is over, you can take the Power from me again. I'll stop by your apartment on my way to the airport on Sunday night."

"And once you're in Colorado Springs again, you can call me and tell me when you're home. We can keep in touch by phone."

Cam nodded. "All right," he agreed. "And every night while I'm in Kansas—after my folks have gone to bed—I'll teleport myself to you and we can spend an hour or two talking and . . . maybe do a little necking. . . . After all, even if nobody on Earth knows it, you and I are, for all intents and purposes, engaged."

"I'd like to see you a little more than an hour or two a night, if I can," Didi said with pleading in her eyes. "After being together 24/7, two hours is nothing but a single candle on a huge birthday cake."

"My dad's probably gonna keep me busy with chores and repairs while I'm there, but . . . if I tell both he and Mom about you, right from the start—about how we ostensibly met—and my plans to spend as much time with you as possible all week, they may have dinner earlier than usual so that I can come to your place a little sooner and spend a few hours with you before I go home to bed; then I won't have to teleport back again later."

Didi nodded. "Okay. But, some night this week, I'd like to cook dinner for you myself."

"How about Tuesday evening? It is your real birthday, after all—the very day you were created. It's the perfect night for us to spend together."

Didi smiled. "I like the way you think," she said, yawning. "I guess I'd better give you back the Power and then go home. I have to get up and go to work in the morning, and you have a plane to catch."

"Yeah, and it's already after two o'clock back in Kansas. If you're supposed to be in to work by ten, you're not gonna get a full eight hours. "

Didi shrugged and yawned again. "My job's not that difficult. I can handle it on five or six hours of sleep. Now, are you ready to be empowered again?"

"More ready than I was the first time."

Smiling, Didi placed her hands on his head, closed her eyes and said, "**Cause Cam's brain to once again produce the enzyme necessary for him to develop the Chak-tuk Power**."

Looking at her, Cam said, "I felt the tingling sensation, just like before."

"Do you want to give it a try?"

"**Lights out**!" he commanded. The lamp that Didi had turned _on _with the Power now turned _off._ "I like it!" he said exultantly, taking the opportunity to kiss Didi under cover of darkness. After their lips parted, he said quietly, "**Lights back on**," and gazed into her eyes.

"Good!" Didi said. "It works." She started to get up, but Cam was on his feet first and pulled her to hers. "Thanks, love," she said with a soft smile.

"You're welcome," Cam replied.

Didi pointed at the clothes she was wearing—the clothes she had acquired aboard the _Apollo_—and said, "I'll wash these sometime this week and give them to you to take back with you on Sunday night. You can turn them in at the SGC on my behalf, if you would."

"Be glad to, hun," he said. Then, "Dee, since everyone in our lives will soon know that we've met and are becoming 'an item,' I want us to get formally engaged and then married as soon as possible. The moment someone—_anyone!_—asks when we're gonna get married, or when I'm gonna put a ring on your finger, or anything like that, we'll do it: we'll get engaged. And then, as soon as we can arrange it, we'll start planning the wedding. Even if we only have a small, intimate affair just for our nearest and dearest (so that my parents can see it happen), I'd still like to have a reception somewhere. I want to show you off to everyone in Auburn. I've waited a long time to find the right woman, and now that I have, I want the whole world to know about it—and the sooner the better. I don't want us to have to live separate lives in separate quarters any longer than necessary."

"I feel the same way, Cam," Didi said. "The sooner we can let the world know that we're in love and want to spend our lives together, the better."

"I do love you, Dee; I always will."

"I love you, too, Colonel Mitchell—with all my heart." She stood on tiptoes and pursed her lips; Cam responded by kissing her again. She sighed as she laid her head on his chest one last time. "Contact me when your plane gets in," she said, "—even if I'm still at work."

"I will; I promise." He kissed the top of her head. She broke free and gave him a melancholy smile. Then she put her fingers to her forehead, closed her eyes and was gone.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31: MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15

When Didi awakened the next morning, she instinctively reached for Cam. It was a hard habit to break. She missed the smell of his aftershave and that singular scent that was uniquely Cam. Tears came to her eyes, but she fought them back, sighed, climbed out of bed and said her prayers.

She had much to be grateful for this morning. She was in love with the most wonderful, understanding man in the multi-verse. The only way she could be happier was if they were already legally married. During the day, _she_ had a job, and—while in Kansas—_he_ would have his parents to keep him busy. But she did miss waking up next to him in the morning.

After praying, she drank her morning orange juice and then went to her telephone. She found two messages on her answering machine and wasn't a bit surprised to see that both were from her mother: the first was from Saturday night, the second from Sunday night.

Her parents had been out on their weekly "date night" Saturday, not returning home until nearly ten p.m. Didi had, therefore, left a message on _their_ answering machine (when she had teleported into the past from aboard the _Apollo_), informing them that she was heading to Colorado Springs to go apartment hunting. She hadn't said what time her flight was leaving, since there really wasn't one. Therefore, Mrs. Steadman had called as soon as she and her husband had returned that night, hoping, no doubt, to find Didi still at home so that she could try to talk her out of making the trip. She sounded quite perturbed that Didi would do something so impulsive without giving her parents more notice in regard to her being absent from Sunday brunch.

In the message from Sunday night, Mrs. Steadman expressed dismay that, not only had Didi neglected to call home during the entire time that she was away, but it was going on eleven p.m. (when she left the message), and Didi _still_ wasn't home. It sounded to Didi as though her mother was actually more anxious than angry. But she had come to know over the years that when parents are exceptionally worried, they often express it as anger because they feel helpless to do anything about whatever it is that has them concerned, and that _sense of helplessness_ makes them angry—but _not_ necessarily at the child. There were very few times in Didi's life when her parents had actually been angry with her.

Didi dreaded making the call—primarily because everything she would be telling the woman who was not really her mother was going to be an outright lie . . . but it couldn't be helped. Like it or not, it had to be done. With a sigh, she picked up the telephone receiver.

The Steadmans had Caller ID. Mrs. Steadman sounded nearly hysterical when she said, "Dina! Where on Earth have you been? You didn't return my calls—on either phone; you weren't home yet when I called at eleven o'clock last night. . . . What have you been up to?"

"Mom . . . Mom! Just . . . calm down and I'll tell you, okay?"

"All right," Mrs. Steadman said with a slight edge to her voice, "I'm listening." Her vocal inflections reminded Didi of Cam's attitude whenever he folded his arms while waiting for an explanation from Didi—particularly when the situation involved Daniel Jackson.

"First of all," Didi began, "I was searching the internet for likely apartments in Colorado Springs between wash loads on Saturday. I came across one I really liked the look of, so I called the phone number on the website and talked to the manager. She told me that one of her tenants is moving out at the end of the month and that he just happened to be out of town for the weekend—probably on some business having to do with his planned move—and that she'd be glad to show me around the apartment while he was gone if I could come to Colorado Springs ASAP. So I did."

"Just like that . . .?"

"Yes, Mom, just like that."

Mrs. Steadman sighed. "Well, I guess I can't blame you for that. An opportunity presented itself and you took advantage of it. But what about last night? I thought you'd be home by eleven!"

"I took a red-eye flight. I didn't get in until after one." _(That much, at least, was true.)_

"Why in the world didn't you take an earlier flight? Were they all booked?"

"No, Mom, they weren't. It's just that . . . I met someone—someone very special—and I didn't want to leave him any sooner than I had to."

"'Him'? You mean . . . you met . . . a _man_?"

"Yes, Mom. I met a man."

"So . . . tell me how you met him. . . . Who is he and what he's like?"

"Well, when I arrived in Colorado Springs, I got a room at a hotel near the airport and called the apartment manager again. She very kindly came to get me so I wouldn't have to rent a car or take a taxi.

"When we reached the apartment complex, she took me up to the third floor, where the apartment she wanted to show me was located, and, as we were approaching it, a man came out of an apartment a couple of doors down. He was on his way downstairs to get his mail, but he stopped to say hello to Mrs. Granger, the manager, then smiled and introduced himself to me."

"And? Who was he? What's his name?"

"Do you remember a certain high school quarterback I had a crush on when I was twelve?"

"You mean . . . _Cameron Mitchell_?"

"Yep. Cameron Mitchell. He's a colonel in the Air Force now and he's stationed at Cheyenne Mountain. You _know_ I thought he was really cute when he was seventeen . . . so did _you_, as I recall. You oughta see him _now_, Mom. He's absolutely _gorgeous._"

"And?" Mrs. Steadman had taken the bait. The fact that Didina had neglected to call home suggested to Mrs. Steadman that she had probably spent most of the weekend in the company of Cameron Mitchell. If so, he was undoubtedly single, and there was a good chance that her daughter had a prospective husband on the hook. Thus, Mrs. Steadman's anger and frustration gave way to excitement, albeit somewhat reserved. She was afraid to hope too hard. . . .

"He helped Mrs. Granger show me the apartment," Didi continued, "and then he offered to take me out to eat. Since I'd only had a burger from McDonald's for dinner, I was pretty hungry, so . . . we went to a good steakhouse and spent the rest of the evening talking and getting to know each other. . . . Mom, he is _so_ amazing. . . ."

"And yesterday? You must've spent time with him yesterday, too, or you wouldn't've taken that red-eye flight last night."

"Yes, you're right, Mom; I did. Cam came to the hotel and had the continental breakfast with me. Then, when I told him I wouldn't eat out on Sunday because I don't like to be responsible for making people work on the Sabbath, he took me to his apartment and fed me both lunch and dinner—both simple meals, at my insistence. I helped him to prepare them and to clean up afterward. It was really fun. In between meals he drove me around town and showed me some of the sights: the best grocery stores, the best restaurants, the location of the nearest mall, the library . . . stuff like that. He was a perfect gentleman the entire time and said he hoped I'd apply for the apartment because he'd like to have a girl from 'back home' living down the hall."

Mrs. Steadman sighed. "Well, no wonder you didn't call! If you were in the company of Cameron Mitchell the entire weekend, talking to your parents might've been a little . . . awkward."

"I wouldn't've minded talking to you, Mom, but . . . I was in such a hurry when I left, I forgot my cell phone; and being with Cam all that time kind of . . . distracted me. I didn't spend all that much time in my hotel room, either, so I just didn't think about calling. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, dear," Mrs. Steadman sighed. "So . . . are you going to take the apartment?"

"Yes, I am. Cam made it clear when we were saying goodbye last night that he wants to get to know me better. He really, really likes me, Mom—a lot. And I really like him, too."

"Well then, it looks like your father and your brother will have the opportunity to meet him when they help you move—if Cameron will be home when you arrive."

"Dad and Mike are going to help me move?" Didi asked, not altogether surprised by the news. A memory from her original's experiences at Sunday brunch on the fourteenth was slowly returning.

Although her original had decided to move at the end of the month—and a discussion with Mike and her father in regard to their helping her move had taken place during brunch _at that time_—everything that had happened on Planet Max had sent that particular memory to the rubbish heap of Didi's mind.

When she and the members of SG-1 had realized they were clones, all that she had planned to do no longer seemed relevant. She and Cam had then made plans of their own that didn't include her father and her brother, since they had no way of knowing what their future would hold. She was fairly certain now, however, that the discussion held by the Steadmans on _this_ world had very probably taken place—and the decision to help Didi move had been made—during yesterday's brunch, despite her absence.

"Yes, they are," Mrs. Steadman replied in answer to Didi's query. "We discussed it over brunch yesterday. Mike isn't happy about it, but . . . your father and Ashley gave him little choice."

"He got roped into it, huh?" Didi surmised, remembering how Mike and Ashley had interacted during her original's experience at brunch.

"You are his baby sister. It's the least he can do—Ashley's words, not mine."

"That sounds like Ashley," Didi said, smiling. Even without her there the conversation seemed to have followed the same basic flow. It was comforting, in a way, to realize that some things are constant.

"Well, there's a good chance you can all meet Cam _before _I move," she told her mother. "He and his team just returned from a pretty hairy mission this weekend, and his C.O. has given him a week off. He plans to spend it here in Kansas. He'll be arriving sometime this afternoon."

"Is he staying with his parents in Auburn?"

"Yes, he is. And he promised he'd come and see me as often as he can while he's here. _I_ have to go to work during the day, and Cam says his dad will probably keep _him_ busy around the farm."

"Dina, do you think . . . Would Cameron be willing . . . Is it too soon to ask . . ."

"Mom, do you want to invite him to my birthday dinner on Friday, is that it?"

Mrs. Steadman sighed with relief. "Yes, dear, I do. Your father was . . . _railroaded_ into inviting Trevor Wilson (by his father, of course), but neither of us is exactly thrilled with the idea. If your father can honestly tell the bombastic old egotist that you got a new boyfriend while you were out of town this weekend—thereby letting us _all _off the hook—we'll be extremely happy. Apparently, the fact that you're planning to move wasn't enough to dissuade Garth. Perhaps he thought that meeting his son would make you change your mind about leaving."

Didi had figured her parents would feel that way. Still, it was all she could do not to snigger. She had seen Trevor Wilson at her original's birthday dinner. Even if she hadn't already met Cam, meeting Trevor would _not _have changed her mind about moving to Colorado Springs.

"Cam's gonna contact me when he gets in," she said. "I'll extend the invitation then—if Dad can get us free of Trevor Wilson."

"I'll call your father at the store and talk to him about it now. You should hear back from one or the other of us before too long. Have a good day, Dina, and don't work too hard. You can't have gotten much sleep after getting in so late last night."

"Dr. Prendergast has hired a replacement for me, and she's starting work today. She's had _some_ experience as an optician's assistant, so, although she didn't do _everything _at her previous job the way I do at this one, she should be able to help out with the things she _did _do before—at least, I'm hoping so."

"I hope so, too. I'll talk to you later, dear."

"Bye, Mom."

It was now eight-forty-five. Didi decided to have breakfast and get dressed, since she had showered, shaved and shampooed on board the _Apollo _the night before. Afterward, if she still had some time before leaving for work, she would take care of her laundry. . . .

As it turned out, she _did _have time—and she already knew what she was going to wear: the same thing her original had worn on the fifteenth: a knee-length dress of powder blue velour with a yoke neck, short sleeves and a gathered bodice. She was dressed and ready to go twenty minutes before she would have to leave if she wanted to make it to work on time.

Just as she was about to use her Power to take care of the laundry her double had left undone, her father phoned. He had called Garth Wilson and asked him to come to his office so that they could talk.

When Mr. Wilson arrived, Greg Steadman had, after observing the social amenities, very politely told the man that Didina was now keeping company with a man she had met over the weekend _in Colorado Springs_, thus negating the need for his son Trevor to attend Didi's birthday dinner. Mr. Wilson was lividly unhappy and swore never again to shop at the sporting goods store of which Mr. Steadman was the general manager. He threatened to persuade all of his friends and associates to boycott it as well. When he learned, however, that the new man in Didi's life was _Cameron Mitchell_, he realized that his threat was vain. Once word got out that Didina Steadman was involved with the former George Washington High School football hero, no one would listen to Wilson's petty ranting over a withdrawn dinner invitation. The man was pragmatic enough to realize that just about anyone would prefer the company of Cameron Mitchell to that of his son, Trevor. Nonetheless, he bellowed and blustered (albeit ineffectually), ended the conversation by saying, "Fine, then!" and slammed the door of Mr. Steadman's office as he left.

"I'm sorry to put you through so much trouble, Dad," said Didi.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I was glad to do it. I'm looking forward to meeting Cameron. Let him know he's invited when you hear from him later on, would you?"

"I fully intend to. Thanks, Dad. I'd better let you go. I have a few things I need to do that I left undone when I went out of town on Saturday night, and I only have a few minutes in which to do them."

"All right, Dee. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

Didi sighed and got busy using her Power on the laundry—the still-dirty as well as the already-washed. She cleaned, freshened, deodorized, de-wrinkled and put away the former, including the panties she had been wearing when she and Cam were beamed aboard the _Apollo_ (which she had sent on ahead from the VIP suite while Sam was gone). Next, she de-wrinkled the items that were in the dryer and put them away, along with the underwear she had procured while at the decommissioned SGC, which she had also sent ahead. Last of all, in order to save time, she threw the things that were in the washing machine into the dryer. She could de-wrinkle them after work if they needed it. But for now, it was time to go.

Although Didi was tired, she managed to keep her mind on her work throughout the day, and her replacement trainee was, indeed, a big help to her.

In the early afternoon, Didi got a telepathic message from Cam. _"I'm at the airport, Dee. I just got in."_

"_How was your flight?"_

"_Not bad. Are you busy?—'cause I don't wanna bother you if you are."_

"_I'm not overly busy at the moment, but I can't take too long. I told my mother you were going to contact me when you got in, so I'm glad you did: kept me from telling another lie. Anyway, I told both of my parents that I'd let you know that you're invited to my birthday dinner on Friday night. It probably won't be any earlier than seven."_

"_Sounds good. Listen, hun, I've gotta go find my bags and then rent a vehicle. I'll see you tonight after dinner."_

"_All right. Bye, love." _

When she went on her lunch break to a nearby fast food restaurant a short time later, she got her food and sat in a secluded corner, far away from other diners. As she ate, she used her telepathic powers to contact her other empowered friend.

"_Daniel, it's Didi . . . . Are you there?"_

"_Yeah, Didi, I'm here. Just walking the perimeter of the village at the moment, so I have a little time. What's up?"_

Didi told Daniel about the cover story she had come up with for her parents, which Gen. Landry had approved; she told him that the general was giving Cam a week off to spend in Kansas with his folks _and_ with her. She then told him what had happened the night before while she was on her way to Topeka aboard the _Apollo_.

"_So, now that the Binding is gone, you and Mitchell are no longer married."_

"_Unfortunately," _Didi said mentally. _"Cam's taking it like a trouper, though."_

"_Is he?" _Daniel asked, sounding skeptical.

"_Yes, he is. He knows what kind of a woman I am. He won't try to make me change my nature."_

"_Then may I assume you're still planning to have a down-home, Kansas-style wedding sometime in the not-too-distant future?"_

"_Yes, we are. I wish you could be there."_

"_Well, I suppose I could, but . . . I'd have to be invisible if that world's version of me is there."_

"_He probably won't be: we're planning to make it a family-only affair. Still, if there's any way to arrange it, I'd like to get _**all **_of the clones there—and it probably would be best to cloak you."_

"_Yeah, it would be. But why go through all that trouble?"_

"_Because I really would like to see all of you one more time before I relinquish the Power."_

"_I thought you were going to relinquish it as soon as you got rid of the Binding after you were married. Since the Binding's already gone, what's the point of keeping it?"_

"_There are three reasons. One is that, during the first day that we spent at the decommissioned SGC, I used the Power to restore my body to the condition it was in before Gor-lak repaired it, so that I wouldn't get pregnant. After we're legally married I'm going to use the Power to fix the problem again, just as Gor-lak did. (Actually, I could do it _**now**_ since Cam and I aren't together anymore; I didn't think about that before. Hm.) Anyway, the other reasons I'm keeping it are so that Cam and I can communicate with each other telepathically while he's in Kansas, and so that I can teleport myself to his apartment in Colorado occasionally after he returns there and before I get moved in down the hall from him."_

"_Ah, well; perfectly understandable reasons, every one of them. So, was being married to Cameron Mitchell everything the twelve-year-old you ever dreamed it would be?"_

"_Yes, Daniel, it was—all that and more. That's why this forced separation is so difficult. After having lived in Paradise and tasted ambrosia, it's hard to walk away."_

"_I still wonder sometimes if Mitchell really knows how lucky he is. With you being the kind of woman you are, he'll never have any reason to doubt you . . . and I'm pretty sure he'll never lose you."_

"_No, he won't . . . which is why I've wondered what his issues are with _**you**_. Why does he always get his knickers in a bind whenever I talk _**to**_ you or _**about**_ you? Why is he so _**jealous**_ of you?"_

"_He probably thinks he has good reason to be."_

"_Why? What do you mean?"_

"_Didi, to be perfectly honest, if it hadn't become abundantly clear almost from the outset that you and Mitchell had eyes only for each other, I would've given him a run for his money. _**I **_was attracted to you, too. Mitchell probably sensed it—maybe even _**saw**_ it. You didn't notice because you only saw _**him**_. All I've ever been to you is a friend. But I could've been more . . . if you'd just given me half a chance."_

"_I'm sorry, Daniel. I really didn't know."_

"_I know you didn't, and it's okay. I've got Sha're and our children and I'm happy. Just . . . try to get Mitchell to understand that, will you?"_

"_I'll do my best. In most ways, Cam is an angel. But there are certain areas in which he still has some growing up to do."_

"_I think that's pretty much true of all of us. So, any other news you'd like to share?"_

Didi told Daniel about her father and brother's decision to help her move and the memory she had of her original's discussion about it. _"Even so, it wasn't something Cam and I were counting on. Not knowing what would happen in our new lives, I figured I'd hire a moving company, drive down on my own with smaller items loaded into my car, and Cam would help me unload my car, unpack my boxes, and rearrange my furniture to my liking after it was all unloaded from the moving van. Actually, I think I like it better this way: my father and my brother will have a chance to get to know Cam better."_

"_You talk as though they've already met him."_

"_My parents will be meeting him by Friday night at the latest. My dad just broke the news to Mr. Wilson this morning that his son Trevor is no longer needed at my birthday dinner because I acquired a 'new boyfriend' while I was in Colorado Springs over the weekend."_

Didi could hear Daniel chuckle in his mind. _"Mitchell, a boyfriend?—that's rich!" _

"_Those were my mom's words, not mine. Anyway, I'll keep you in the loop as things progress."_

"_Thanks. I appreciate that. I really am interested to know how things turn out for you two."_

"_I'm just glad to have you to talk to," _Didi replied._ "Listen, Daniel, I really need to go. It's time to get back to work. Take care and we'll talk again later."_

"_Okay, Didi. Have a good evening . . . and tell Mitchell I said hello."_

As soon as Didi arrived home that evening, she perused her mail and then checked her answering machine. Four of her friends wanted to get together with her on Thursday after work and take her out for a pre-birthday celebration: first-class gossip over a first-class dinner, followed by a sentimental romantic movie. They would foot the bill. It came as no surprise to her: the same message had been left on her original's answering machine on Monday, the fifteenth. She remembered it well. For some reason she had forgotten about it while on Planet Max, and thus had never mentioned it to Cam. He had asked what her plans for her birthday were and she had told him; but he hadn't asked about anything _else _that might be happening _prior_ to that. Therefore, she didn't think to tell him of her plan to go out to dinner with her best friends on Thursday.

She returned the call of the one who had left the message and accepted the invitation. This could very well be the last opportunity she would have to spend an evening out with these lifelong friends, and she wanted to take advantage of it.

No sooner had she hung up the phone than she heard Cam's voice in her mind.

"_Hi, hun, it's me. Are you home?"_

Didi smiled. _"Yes, love, I'm home. What have you been up to all day?"_

"_Oh, this and that. I'm nailing a few shingles at the moment."_

"_You're up on the roof?"_

"_Yep."_

"_Oh, Cam, be careful!"_

"_I always am. Listen, fix yourself some dinner and then contact me. Prior to the shingle nailing I was getting my parents caught up on my news—including how I supposedly met you. So, as expected, we had dinner early tonight. Mom and Dad are all for my spending as much time with you as possible. I'll tell them when I return home from your place tonight that I'll be having dinner with you tomorrow—make it sound like it was an impromptu invitation from you."_

"_It sort of was. I said I wanted to make you dinner; _**you**_ chose tomorrow night."_

"_Yeah, it was a joint effort . . . but they don't need to know that. I'll tell them about your parents' inviting me to your birthday dinner on Friday, too, while I'm at it. Anyway, I'm about done up here. I'll shower and change real quick before heading over to your place." _

"_Okay. I'll change out of this dress, find something to eat and then contact you."_

"_All right, hun. I'll talk to you again soon."_

Although it was late in the season, it was (technically) still summer; therefore, Didi donned a pair of blue jeans and a peacock blue T-shirt with a red-eyed Chinese dragon on the front. The eyes were paste "rubies" and the entire body of the dragon was made up of sequins of various colors, giving the impression of polychromatic scaling.

Once she was dressed, she went to the kitchen and microwaved a frozen dinner. It was fast and easy to fix and small enough to eat fairly quickly. Because it was small, she figured she'd probably have a before-bed snack later on.

When she had finished eating, Didi tossed the container in the trash and washed her fork and her plastic tumbler, putting them in the dish drainer to dry. She then closed her eyes and contacted Cam.

"_I'm through eating, love. Are you ready?"_

"_Not quite, hun. I finished with the shingles about ten minutes ago. I'm in the shower now. I'll be out in about five minutes and be at your place in twenty-five."_

"_Okay; see you then."_

Didi was glad she had at least twenty-five minutes to get a few more loose ends taken care of before Cam arrived.

First, she sent for the "Saturday grungies" her double had been wearing when she was abducted. They were probably still in the dressing room on PX5 452. When they arrived, she threw them into her laundry hamper. Then she removed the clothes she had put in the dryer that morning, de-wrinkled them, and put them away. After she had finished with all of that, she fixed her hair and make-up. She wanted to look her best.

By the time she had finished, she heard knocking on her door. When she opened it, Cam stepped inside, gathered her into his arms and kissed her fervently. "I've missed you," he said huskily into her ear while simultaneously kicking the door shut.

"You just saw me eighteen hours ago," she teased.

"That was eighteen hours ago. It's a long time when you're used to being with someone 24/7."

"I know; I've missed you, too." She kissed him on the cheek, took him by the hand, and led him to her sofa. They sat down and he put an arm around her shoulders. She then said, "I got everything done that the other Didi left behind, but I haven't yet had a chance to put in my application for the apartment."

"Already done," Cam said with a sparkle in his eyes. "I took care of it this morning before I left for the airport. I found the Grenadier Arms website on my computer and typed in all of the information they asked for that I knew about you. I didn't know your zip code, but I was able to get that from the post office. I used a holographic projection to find out your Social Security and driver's license numbers. I could've called you and asked for them, but . . . I wanted to surprise you."

Didi smiled. "Well, you did." She kissed him on the cheek again. "Thanks, love. You are the most thoughtful husb . . . the most thoughtful _man _any woman could ask for. . . . So, all I have to deal with, then, is putting in a change of address if my application is accepted."

"It will be. I put myself down as a reference—along with Carter and Jackson. I'm pretty sure the two of them would be more than happy to vouch for you."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"I did it for both of us, Dee—you know that."

"Yes, I do," she replied.

"I did one other thing before I left Colorado Springs this morning: I went to the bank, traded in some dollars for rolls of quarters, and sent—by psycho-kinesis—as many quarters as were necessary into the vending machines at the decommissioned SGC to pay for all the stuff we took out of them while we were there. (I didn't unwrap or touch any of the quarters, so my fingerprints won't be on any of them.) It was a complicated request to make, so I wrote it down and then burned the paper afterward. I wouldn't want someone to find it and wonder what the heck was going on."

"Good! I'm glad you did that. I had planned to send some money back there myself, but I was kind of busy getting all my laundry done before and after work today. So . . . how're you getting along with your parents?"

"Great! They are, as I thought they would be, exactly like my original's parents in every way— which means that it _feels_ like they really are _my_ parents. How about you? Are your parents pretty much what you expected them to be?"

Didi nodded. "Yes, they are. All in all, things went pretty well when I gave Mom my phony reason for not calling over the weekend. And, of course, Dad managed to get Trevor Wilson out of the picture and you into it for dinner on Friday night."

"I'm really glad about that. It'll give me a chance to meet your parents sooner than expected."

"Yes, it will," Didi averred with a nod. "Oh! I have some other news: my dad and my brother are going to help me move. I expect we'll flesh out the details either on Friday night at my birthday dinner or on Sunday during brunch."

"Well, since General Landry is letting me have a couple days off to help you move in, discussing it on Friday night might be best. That way, I can coordinate _my_ plans with yours and your dad's."

"General Landry is being really nice about this whole situation, letting you come home to spend time with me and giving you time off to help me move in. How many bosses are that accommodating?"

"I think he's mostly concerned about _you_. And since it's pretty obvious that we bonded, he figures I'm the best man for the job of making sure you're okay and well taken care of."

"Whatever his reasons, I'm glad he's being so helpful and considerate."

"So am I," Cam admitted. There was silence between them for a moment or two; then he said, "I missed sleeping with you last night."

"I missed you, too," Didi said. "If I hadn't been as exhausted as I was, I probably wouldn't've gotten a lick of sleep. I held my spare pillow all night long, wishing it would magically turn into you. I reached for you when I woke up this morning and almost cried when I found you weren't there. As I said to Daniel when I contacted him earlier today—"

"You _what?_"

"Cam, please! Just listen."

Cam folded his arms petulantly, as he often did when the conversation turned to Daniel Jackson. Didi persevered, nonetheless.

"I wanted and needed to talk to someone besides you about the whole Binding thing. Sometimes I just need a sounding board, and Daniel is the only other person I _can _talk to about all this stuff. He's not directly involved in our situation, so he's able to be more objective than we are. I just wanted some feedback from an outside source. Believe me, if there was anyone else I could talk to—like Sam, Vala or one of my friends—I would. But _there isn't anybody else_. You've got to understand that."

Cam sighed and put a leash on his temper. "All right; I'm sorry. I'll try to be more understanding where Jackson is concerned. It's just that—"

"You're jealous, I know. I just didn't understand why until today. Daniel said that you probably saw the way he looked at me when we were on Planet Max, so you knew that _he_ was developing feelings for me, too. _I_ never noticed." She paused for just a moment and gazed directly into his eyes as she said, "I only had eyes for you."

Cam sighed. "I know you did. I guess I just didn't like him looking at you that way. But, regardless of that, I suppose I have been kind of . . . _unreasonable_ about the whole thing."

"Yes, you have—especially now that it's over and done with. He's in another universe with the woman he loves, _and _they have children. Meanwhile, we're here together in _this_ universe, working toward getting married. Do I care about Daniel? Yes, in the same way that I care about _all_ of the clones. We developed strong bonds over the few days that we were together, both on Planet Max and at the decommissioned SGC. My feelings for Daniel aren't any different from or any stronger than my feelings for Sam, Vala or Teal'c. It's all the same to me. They're just _friends_."

Cam nodded slowly, resignedly. "So . . . what did you say to him today?" he asked contritely.

"I said that, after having lived in Paradise and tasted ambrosia, it's hard to walk away."

"You said that?"

Didi nodded. "Mm-hm."

"Aw, Dee!" He pulled her to him, kissing her passionately. "I am so much in love with you," he said touching his forehead to hers when the kiss was over.

"That goes both ways, Cam," Didi replied. "I'm going to miss you if you ever get stuck off world somewhere at night."

"I'll miss you, too, believe me. But it's something we've known all along that we might have to deal with from time to time."

Didi nodded. "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier."

"Nothing's ever easy, Dee," Cam said, adding with a whimsical smile, "—except loving you."

Didi smiled back. "Thanks, Cam." At that moment, her stomach rumbled.

"You hungry, hun?" Cam queried, his smile turning to one of bemusement.

"Yes, I am," Didi replied, blushing. "Would you take me out for some ice cream?"

"Sure. What are you in the mood for?—a double scoop of chocolate chip, a hot fudge sundae, or a chocolate shake?"

"I'm not sure; I won't know 'til I get there and listen to what my stomach and my taste buds have to say."

Cam nodded. "Just give me directions and let's go."

While they were waiting in line for their turn to order at the ice cream parlor, Didi discovered she was in the mood for a hot fudge sundae. Cam had a banana split with three different flavors of ice cream and two kinds of syrup.

They chatted happily as they ate and stayed until closing: nine-thirty. By then, the employees—who wanted to finish cleaning the place quickly so that they could go home—were glowering at them.

Didi was happy when they left and smiled discreetly as Cam drove her home in the SUV he had rented at the airport.

"A penny for your thoughts," Cam said, stealing a glance her way.

"The dinner I fixed for myself earlier was pretty small," she said, "so I'd planned to have a snack sometime before bed. I was just musing that I've _had_ my snack . . . and in good company."

Cam smiled. "I'm glad to be with you—anytime, anywhere."

They had reached her apartment complex. He found a spot in the visitors' section of the parking lot, parked the SUV and turned off the engine. He then opened his door and said to Didi, "Stay put. I'll walk around and let you out."

Didi smiled and said, "You are such a gentleman, Colonel Mitchell."

As Cam opened her door, he looked intently into her eyes and said telepathically, _"It's easy to be a gentleman with you, hun."_ He then helped her down, closed the door, and pushed the "lock" button on the key fob. "Let's go on upstairs. I'd like to spend at least another hour with you before I head home."

Didi nodded. "All right."

Cam held her hand until they reached the stairwell. It was too narrow for them to go up it side by side, so Cam stayed a step behind Didi, his hand placed gently at the small of her back to support her—or to catch her if she lost her balance and began to fall.

Having left in a hurry, without thinking, Didi had forgotten to take her purse, leaving her without her keys. "Crap!" she said. She told Cam about the problem before sending for her key ring. She could unlock the door telekinetically, but sending for her keys and unlocking it manually felt better.

When the key ring appeared in her right hand, she found and inserted her apartment key into the lock and turned it. "There!" she said brightly as she opened the door.

"Next time," Cam whispered in her ear, "bring your keys—even if you _don't_ bring your purse."

"Yes, dear," Didi replied, smiling softly as she entered her apartment with Cam in her wake.

"I hope we can do this all week," said Cam as he closed the door behind him. "We never really had a chance to date before we got married on Planet Max. It's gonna be fun!"

"My parents go out together every Saturday night. It helps keep their relationship strong."

"Wanna watch a movie or something?" Cam queried.

Didi nodded. "Okay, as long as it's a short one. I don't wanna be up 'til after midnight again."

Cam agreed. "My dad's gonna get me up at five-thirty to do chores, and I don't get breakfast 'til we're done, usually at around seven. I'd like to be in bed before midnight myself if possible. What've you got on DVD that's about an hour and a half long?"

They chose the original _Frankenstein_, with Colin Clive and Boris Karloff. Didi made popcorn in the microwave before they started the DVD going.

Cam was amazed to find that Didi had almost all of the old classic black-and-white horror films on DVD, as well as an extensive collection of Alfred Hitchcock's and Vincent Price's best works.

Cam imagined countless hours of watching suspense thrillers and horror movies with Didi, having her hide her eyes against his chest when things were too scary or gory to watch. The thought amused him. After coming face to face with beings as hideous as Gor-lak and his ilk—and a creature as menacing and frightening as the dinosaur that had tried to eat her for lunch—Cam didn't believe much of anything _fictional_ would scare Didi anymore. Real life had been a good deal more terrifying than make believe could ever be. Still, she did seem to enjoy watching the old film, and he was perfectly content to watch with her.

When the movie ended, Cam said, "Next time, _I_ get to pick the flick. Got any sports movies?"

Didi smiled and named her ten favorites, from old comedies like _Rhubarb_ and _It Happens Every Spring _(her father's favorites) to bio-pics such as Disney's_ The Rookie_ and _Brian's Song _(a particular favorite of her mother). Cam was duly impressed—even more so when he learned that she had both _Grand Prix_ and _LeMans_, two of the greatest classic car racing films ever made. "Yes, but . . . they're not exactly NASCAR, are they?" she said defensively.

"No, they're not," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I think they're either better or worse than a NASCAR event. The thing about movies is, they focus a lot on the _characters_, not just on the driving. And the stories are always full of subplots and intrigue that keep you on the edge of your seat. In real life, it's the risk the drivers all face that creates the drama in the situation."

"Whatever you want to watch next time is fine with me," said Didi, "—even a tape or DVD from your parents' or your own collection: since you have the Power, you can always teleport something from home if you want to see it badly enough."

"That's right, I can. Hm. I'll think it over. Shall we end tomorrow night with a movie, too? If we do, it'll be your pick again, since it's your real, honest-to-goodness birthday."

"Why don't we watch a romantic comedy and decide together which one we'd both like to see?"

"I'd like to watch _Two Weeks' Notice_ if it's all right with you," said Cam. "I love the rapport between Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant. I haven't seen it in a while, either."

Didi nodded. "All right; sounds good to me."

"Well," said Cam, getting to his feet, "I guess it's time to head home and go to bed."

"Before you go, there's something I need to discuss with you."

"All right." His brow was furrowed with curiosity.

"When I was talking to Daniel today about my reasons for keeping the Power, it occurred to me that, because we're not together anymore, I don't need to worry about getting pregnant, so—"

"—so you want to repair your body now instead of waiting until we're married, is that it?"

Didi nodded. "Yes."

He pulled Didi to her feet, held her hands in his, gazed into her eyes and said, "I'm here, Dee. Go ahead and do it." He smiled. "Anyway, it'll help keep me honest. . . ."

Didi smiled softly back at him, but it was a sad, wistful smile. "I know. That's one of the reasons I'm doing it—and not just to keep _you_ honest. . . ."

She closed her eyes and searched her body for the problem area. Finding it, she made the necessary repairs. "There!" she said, smiling. "It's done."

Cam nodded. "Good. Someday, when the time is right, we'll have kids—as many of 'em as God wants to send us."

"I love you, Cam."

"I love you, too, Dee. But it's time I headed home. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Sleep well, my love, and be careful tomorrow—whatever your father has you doing."

"I will." He kissed her briefly, caressed her cheek tenderly, and turned toward the door. Didi watched with a soft smile on her face as he opened the door and left.


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32: BIRTHDAY OF A CLONE

When Didi's alarm went off at eight a.m., she moaned as she wakened. She rolled onto her back and commanded, "**Shut off alarm clock**!" Sighing, she got out of bed and knelt down to pray.

Didi prayed for Cam and for his parents. She had no doubt that Cam would spend a good deal of his "vacation" doing odd jobs around the farm—as he had with the shingles the day before. It didn't seem to bother Cam to be asked to do the repair work, though. He loved his parents and he knew they needed him—and Didi was well aware of how much Cam enjoyed being needed.

She prayed for her own family, and her friends and relations. She prayed that everything would go smoothly this evening as she prepared dinner for Cam.

And she prayed that today—September sixteenth—would _not_ be the same as the last September sixteenth had been: the day her original's thumb had been pricked and Didi the clone had been born. A feeling of peace came over her as she was gently reminded that the Didi from this world had already been taken by the Chak-tuk on Saturday, three days ago; they would _not_ come for her again. And the Chak-tuk in _this_ universe didn't have Gor-lak or the cloning technology that existed in the universe of her origin. Didi's day would be an average day. She would take the postage meter to the post office, get it filled and return to work, safe and sound. Her thumb would not be pricked and she would not be oblivious to the creation of another version of herself.

Ending her prayer, she went to the kitchen for breakfast. She had time and was in the mood for a breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast—with her usual glass of orange juice.

She thought of Cam as she ate and of the two wonderful IHOP-type breakfasts Gor-lak had given them, as well as the final meals she had procured from Planet Max on the day the Chak-tuk had died.

When she had finished eating, she took her dishes to the kitchen, rinsed them and put them into the dishwasher. She then went to the bathroom and filled the tub.

She preferred bathing at night before bed, but since Cam was spending his evenings with her and they were no longer married, she had to bathe or shower in the morning instead.

As she soaked in the tub, she realized that the feeling of peace and contentment that had come to her when she'd prayed the other night still remained, despite the fact that she'd had to go back to sleeping alone. She had prayed that she and Cam would have the strength to endure this forced separation. So far it hadn't been as difficult as she had imagined it would be. God really _was_ helping; she was sure of it.

After bathing, she got dressed for work, putting on the same outfit she'd been wearing on the day she was born: the white denim jeans, royal blue V-neck pullover and brown leather sandals. It was odd to see them again. The ones she'd worn on Planet Max had been sent back to her original and she hadn't seen them since. Oh, she had no doubt seen the ones in _this _closet while putting laundry away, but she hadn't really _sought_ for them or fully _noticed_ them until now.

When she was dressed, she stood in front of her full-length mirror and sighed. The very sight of herself in that same outfit conjured powerful memories—both good and bad.

She remembered seeing the faces of Sam and the others as they had introduced themselves to her, one by one. She remembered Cam especially: his steady, piercing gaze that sought for the truth of who and what this new woman in their midst—this stranger—was, while simultaneously showing sympathy and understanding toward her.

Next she recalled her first sight of Gor-lak. She had been terrified of him then. Over time, however, he had become no more frightening to her than a powerful, influential human being with abundant resources . . . and severe anger management problems. In the end she had proven herself to be his match in _cleverness_, if not in intellect.

The memories continued: the new room; the big bed; the discomfiture of being left alone in such a small room with Cameron Mitchell—an extremely virile and attractive man, despite his malodorous and unshaven condition; and finally, the next day, giving him the duplicate of this blue shirt that she was now wearing, so that he could use it to wipe off the sweat when he had finished his exercise regimen.

How attracted she had been to him from the very start! How foolish she had been to mistrust him for even a moment . . . but how wise she had been to keep her feelings hidden until he had revealed his. She had made him _earn_ her love and trust and he appreciated it all the more because he _had_ earned it.

Everything came flooding back like a tidal wave in her soul. The feelings were so overwhelming that she was almost ready to change out of the outfit and put on something else, but . . . no. She wanted to see how Cam himself would react when he saw her wearing it again.

This time she _had_ not and _would _not paint her toenails. The lack of nail polish had been a sign that she was not who and what she believed herself to be. Didi didn't think she'd ever paint her toenails again—at least, not for quite a while.

She still had some time before she had to leave for work, so she went to the living room and engaged in Bible study. She read by topic rather than by chapters, looking up references regarding love and marriage. The more she read, the more determined she was to be the best wife she could be to Cam and to prepare herself for that eventuality.

When her wristwatch told her it was nine-thirty, she closed the book and set it back in its usual place on the end table. Just as she was about to stand up, she heard Cam's voice in her mind. _"Dee, are you there?"_

She smiled. _"Yes, Cam. I was just getting ready to leave for work."_

"_Then I won't keep you long. Listen, I forgot to ask you last night . . . What time do you want me to come for dinner?"_

"_Not before seven. We close at six-thirty, but I have to put everything away before I can leave, and some nights the traffic is really bad. I'm always home by seven, though, regardless—unless there's a really nasty accident blocking traffic somewhere along the way. If that happens, I'll let you know."_

"_Okay. I love you, Dee. I'll be there at seven—with bells on." _

He heard her laugh in her mind. She then thought to him, _"Bye, Cam. I love you, too."_

It was time to leave. Her workday began at ten a.m. and ended at six-thirty p.m. (as she had told Cam) with a half-hour lunch break from two 'til two-thirty. It was at that time that she had contacted Daniel the previous day.

_When Cam arrives at seven_, she mused, _he can help me finish dinner, or he can amuse himself while I cook. I just want him here with me for as long as possible_. She smiled at the thought. Then, with a final sigh, she turned from the mirror, exited her bedroom, picked up her purse from the wall shelf by the door, stuck her fully-charged cell phone inside of it and left for work.

When he had finished with the day's chores around the farm and the house, Cam took a shower and dressed in a pair of gray-blue casual slacks and an azure blue polo shirt, with a sturdy navy blue nylon belt and a pair of matching deck shoes that he'd only worn a couple of times. No T-shirt and jeans on Didi's "birthday."

He sat on the sofa in the front room, waiting impatiently for six-thirty to come. Didi had told him to be at her place by seven and he preferred to be early rather than late.

While he sat, restlessly tapping his foot and drumming his thighs with his fingers, his father entered the room and sat down beside him. "So, why are you all dolled up for this visit, son?" Mr. Mitchell asked. "Jeans and a T-shirt were all right for last night's visit. . . . What's so special about tonight?"

"Well, since Didi's going to all the trouble of making dinner for me—after putting in a full day's work—getting a little bit dressed up is the least I can do."

"I suppose so. What are you planning to wear when you go to her parents' house for her birthday dinner on Friday?"

"Actually, I'm planning to wear my uniform then. Didi really wants to see me in it, and . . . I'd do anything for her. When you meet her, you'll understand."

"And when, exactly, is that going to happen?" asked Frank.

Cam shrugged. "If you wanna meet her while I'm still in town, it'll have to be some evening this week. Friday's out, of course; otherwise, the 'when' will have to be worked out between Mom and Didi."

Frank nodded. "I'll talk to your mother and have her call you on your cell phone later, so you can discuss it with Didina while you're there with her."

"Okay. I'll be waiting for the call." Cam's watch beeped. "It's time for me to go," he said, getting to his feet. "Like I said last night, don't wait up. _And this time, I mean it_."

"All right. See you in the morning, son."

"G'night, Dad."

Didi managed to get the office locked up by six-thirty-five that night. She didn't bother to check her phone messages, voice mail or e-mail when she got home. She brought in her regular mail and put it on the wall shelf along with her purse, but that was _all_ she did since she was in a hurry to start dinner.

By the time Cam arrived at 7:07, most of the cooking was done and the table was immaculately set. Didi hoped Cam would like what she had prepared for him. She had realized, as she'd tried to decide what to fix for dinner, that there were still a lot of things that she didn't know about him when it came to what he liked and disliked as far as food was concerned.

When she heard his knock at the door, she hurried to let him in. "You look wonderful!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight. She backed out of the way and ushered him in.

"Sorry I'm late," he said as he entered. "I stopped at the mall to get you a couple of things." He handed her a large, gift-wrapped box with a much smaller one atop it. "Happy birthday."

"You bought me _birthday presents_?" Didi asked, closing the door behind him.

"Well, today _is_ the sixteenth again," Cam said with a sardonic smile, "and I'm glad to see you've gotten into the spirit of the day by wearing the same outfit you had on when we first met."

Didi smiled and nodded. "I was hoping you'd notice."

"Of course I noticed! You're even wearing the earrings and the birthstone ring you had on." He smiled. "Brings back a lot of memories, seeing you like this again."

"Well," said Didi, "since it is, in a way, the exact same day, what could be more appropriate?"

"So, how old are you exactly?"

"I couldn't say _exactly_ how old I am, what with our going back in time the way we did. But I am, I believe, about twelve days old now—give or take ten to twelve hours."

"Which means that I'm . . . seventeen days old, right?"

Didi nodded. "Yep. _You_ are five _days _older than I am; our _originals_ are about five _years_ apart."

"Hey, that's right! I hadn't thought about that." He paused and gazed into her eyes. "So . . . do you wanna open your presents now?"

Didi grimaced slightly. "Could it wait 'til after dinner? The food's all done, and I'm pretty hungry." She set the packages in the middle of the coffee table.

"Oh, yeah, sure." Cam was only slightly disappointed. He'd wanted to see the look on her face when she opened the boxes, but the idea of dinner was appealing, too . . . and he wanted her to really enjoy the gifts—which she wouldn't be able to do if she were distracted by hunger.

Didi bade Cam sit down on the sofa while she placed the dishes of food on the table, but he insisted on helping her. As he followed her into the dining area, the luscious aromas made his mouth water.

Cam was duly impressed by the spread. Didi had obviously used her good china and crystal. The tablecloth was sapphire blue linen. Matching cloth napkins were neatly folded in a triangular shape and placed beneath the knife and spoon to the right of each plate. The china was eggshell-white, with an inch and a half of metallic blue trim along the rim. The water glasses and wine goblets were a pale blue shade; a matching bud vase containing a blue satin rose sat in the center of the table, and a single spiraled candle of powder blue in a silver-plated candlestick sat about three inches away from it. Cam whistled. "You really know how to do it up fancy."

"Tad and I entertained a lot," she said, "and my mother taught me how to set a proper table when I was twelve. It's been a while since I entertained, though, so I'm not sure if I got everything just right."

"It looks fine to me," Cam said. "If we ever do any serious entertaining as a couple in the future, you can always consult with your mom or the internet to make sure you get everything right."

Didi nodded. "Yes, I can—and I will."

The dinner consisted of teriyaki steak with sautéed mushrooms and stir fried rice and vegetables. Once they'd finished putting everything on the table, they took their seats, after which Didi asked a blessing on their repast. She then handed Cam a corkscrew and had him open a bottle of choice red wine that she and Tad had received from her parents as a wedding gift. There had originally been two of the bottles, Didi told Cam, but she and Tad had drunk the first one on their fifth wedding anniversary, saving the second one for their tenth.

"Which, of course, never came," Cam surmised.

"It would've been a year ago if it had," Didi replied, "on June fourteenth."

"You still think about it every year?"

"It's Flag Day. It's not all that easy to forget when you're married on a holiday—even a minor one. There were flags all over town that day. Even when I _don't_ think about it, as soon as I go outside and see all the flags, I remember."

"I'm sorry. That must be rough."

"I've survived this long . . . but, now that I have you, my love, I won't have to _think_ about it—or even _notice_ it—ever again."

"This food is delicious, Dee," said Cam, changing the subject. "You're a good cook."

"I'm glad you think so. I wasn't sure whether this was something you'd like to eat or not."

"It is; thanks," Cam said with a soft smile.

Didi then told him that her application for the Grenadier Arms apartment had been accepted: Mrs. Granger had called her cell phone in the early afternoon and had left a message in her voicemail, which Didi had found while on her lunch break. An hour later, she had put in her change of address at the post office while getting the postage meter filled.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Cam. "That puts us one step closer to being together permanently."

"Yes, it does," said Didi. "So, how are things going at home?"

"Good. Dad and I got a lot done today: repaired a few fences, filled in a few holes . . . ."

"Your dad's really keeping you busy, isn't he?"

Cam shrugged. "I like helping out, and I know they really appreciate it. But I don't do it for the appreciation. I do it because it needs doing—and because they're my parents and I love them."

Didi smiled. "I know. You're a wonderful, dutiful son; that's one of the things I love and respect most about you."

"It's nice to be appreciated, loved _and_ respected," said Cam.

Didi nodded. "Yes, it is."

"Speaking of my folks . . . Guess what Mom's making for dinner tonight? Think hard, now."

Didi's eyes opened wide. "You're kidding! She's going to fix the exact same meal Gor-lak gave us on our first night together?"

"Yep! Roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob and broccoli with cheese sauce."

"Wow! This universe really _is_ like the one we came from if your mom was planning to cook that same meal tonight that _we_ had on the sixteenth on Planet Max! That is awesome!"

"Yes, it is. I was about ready to call and ask if you'd like to come over and have that instead of cooking tonight, but . . . What the—? Are you expecting someone else besides me?" Cam asked as he heard the ringing of the doorbell.

Didi shook her head. "No, I'm not."

"Didi, honey, are you home? It's Mom and Dad!" came Mr. Steadman's voice.

"Oh, crap! Cam, put the boxes on my bed and cloak them or something. My parents won't understand your bringing me presents so early in our relationship; and they certainly don't need to know that today is my pseudo-birthday."

The doorbell rang twice; a persistent knocking followed.

Cam carried the presents to Didi's bedroom and cloaked them. Then, returning to the front room, he stood a ways back as Didi opened the door for her parents.

"Mom! Dad! It's so good to see you!" Didi effused sincerely, hugging each of them in turn. Although she had spoken with both of them on the telephone since coming to this world, she hadn't yet seen them face to face. Now that they were here, however, she was overcome with emotion and began to cry. _They really are my parents!_ she thought with amazement. She hadn't expected to feel this strongly about them—not this soon, anyway.

Greg Steadman was a mustachioed man of sixty-three, with white-flecked, light-blond hair and pale blue eyes. Mrs. Steadman was a beautiful woman of sixty-one, slightly taller than Didi, with bright blue eyes and hair that was nearly as golden as that of her youngest daughter, save for the few strands of white that streaked it here and there.

"_Now I know where you get your good looks from," _Cam sent to Didi. "_You have your father's eyes and your mother's hair." _Didi could only conclude that Cam hadn't paid close attention to her parents when they had dropped in on her original's birthday dinner party. He had been too busy looking at both her original and at Trevor Wilson.

"What's wrong, Dee?" Mr. Steadman asked. "Why are you crying?"

"Nothing, really," Didi sputtered. "I'm just really glad you're here."

She heard her mother whisper, "It's probably PMS."

Didi turned sideways and said, "Mom, Dad, this is Cameron Mitchell. Cam, my parents—Greg and Melinda Steadman."

"It's good to meet you, Cameron," said Greg Steadman, extending his hand.

Cam stepped forward to take the proffered hand. "Mr. Steadman . . . ."

Mrs. Steadman closed the door behind herself and her husband, then she, too, reached out a hand. "As my husband said, it's good to meet you, Cameron." In an effort to be discreet, she whispered in her daughter's ear, "You're right, Dina: he _is_ gorgeous!"

Despite Mrs. Steadman's intentions, Cam overheard the remark and blushed slightly. He looked at Didi with a bemused expression and sent to her, _"You told your mother I'm _**gorgeous**_?"_

"_Well, you are,"_ Didi sent back.

Sensing the discomfiture of Didi's guest, Mr. Steadman decided to change the subject quickly and said, "I smell food. We interrupted dinner, didn't we?"

"Yes, you did," said Didi, "but it's okay. That's what microwaves are for. Please . . . sit down."

The Steadmans sat side by side on the sofa. Didi took the armchair that was at a right angle to the sofa. Cam grabbed the desk chair that Didi used when sitting at her computer and moved it into a convenient position.

"What were you having for dinner?" asked Mr. Steadman. "It smells mouth-watering!"

"Teriyaki steak and stir fry," Cam stated. "It's really delicious. Your daughter is a good cook."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Mrs. Steadman. "It's been a while since she's had the opportunity to fix a complete meal. It's good she hasn't lost her touch."

Mr. Steadman took over the conversation, turning his attention to his once-and-future son-in-law. "Cameron, it's fortunate for us that you're here; it'll make things much easier."

"What things?" Cam asked cautiously.

"Well, since you'll be coming to Didi's birthday dinner party on Friday night, we were wondering whether your parents would like to join us, too. We were going to have Didi speak to you about it on our behalf, but since you're here, we can ask you directly."

"I'm sure they'd be glad to. If you'd like, I can call them now and get their answer. . . ."

"Would you?" asked Melinda. "That way, I can start planning the menu and I'll know how much I need to buy of everything."

"Sure."

As Cam took his cell phone from his pocket, opened it and called his parents, Melinda Steadman reached across the corner of the coffee table and whispered to her daughter, "He looks so handsome in that outfit! Was he dressed like that when you met him, Dina?"

Didi shook her head. "No, Mom. Most of the time he wears jeans and a T-shirt. I think he just dressed up a little tonight as a way of thanking me for fixing him dinner."

"How very thoughtful! I really do understand now why you forgot to call while you were gone." She turned her attention to the subject of their discussion and requested, "Cameron, may I speak to your mother, please?"

"Sure, hang on. . . . Mom, Mrs. Steadman would like to have a word with you." He handed the phone to her.

Everyone else listened as Melinda spoke to Wendy about any possible food allergies or sensitivities that any of the Mitchells might have, as well as finding out if there were any foods for which any of them might have complete disdain. Then, from the sound of it, Melinda was reciprocating by telling Mrs. Mitchell what foods _Didi_ liked best.

"Mom," said Didi, "tell them they don't need to bring anything. _I absolutely do not want any presents._ I'm going to be moving soon. The last thing I need is more stuff to pack." This remark caused Cam to raise his eyebrows. Didi sent to him, _"Your parents and I haven't even met yet; I don't want them to feel obligated to bring me a present just because it's my birthday."_

Melinda was a bit more diplomatic than her daughter. She said, "By the way, Wendy, there's no need for you and your husband to bring anything with you. Although it is Didina's birthday, the purpose for inviting you and Frank is to give us all an opportunity to meet one another and to become acquainted. It means a great deal to Dina to have both you and Cameron there; that in and of itself is the best gift you could give her."

_Well done, Mom!_ Didi thought.

Wendy told Melinda that, if Didina wasn't interested in receiving gifts, they certainly wouldn't force one on her. She did, however, offer to bring a basket of fresh-baked rolls, which offer Melinda was delighted to accept.

The conversation went on for a couple more minutes. When it ended, Melinda closed the phone, handed it back to Cam and said, "Your parents have invited us—my husband, myself, and Didina—to the farm for a barbeque on Saturday evening."

"They did, huh?" Cam queried. "I'm not surprised. My folks are as anxious to meet Didi as the two of you apparently were to meet me." He slid the cell phone back into his pocket and added, "My dad asked me before I left home this evening when they were going to get the opportunity to meet Didi. Your inviting them to the birthday dinner has settled that question nicely. Now, in the grand Kansas tradition, they're reciprocating by inviting all of you to a barbeque. I like the idea.

"But, before any of you meet them," he continued, "there's something I think you should know: my father has prosthetic legs. He was a test pilot and lost his legs a long time ago. I just want you to be prepared when you see him. Don't stare at him; don't say anything about his legs; don't ask about the accident. Just treat him like any other normal, mobile man."

"Of course we will," said Mr. Steadman. "Over the years I've known a number of men who lost limbs during Viet Nam and I've always tried to treat them just the same as I do everyone else."

"Which is with civility, courtesy and respect," said Mrs. Steadman.

"Dad is the general manager of the local outlet of a large national chain of sporting goods stores," said Didi. "He's always insisted that his staff treat _everyone_ civilly—fellow employees and customers alike—no matter how rude or ill-tempered they may be. Those who are _well-mannered and polite_ are treated with deference and courtesy. Your father will be in good hands with mine, believe me."

"I never want to make anyone feel uncomfortable," said Greg.

"I believe you," said Cam. "Thank you for that assurance. It means a lot."

Greg Steadman got to his feet. "Well, you got what you came for, Mel. Let's leave these two to finish their dinner." He held out his hand and helped his wife to her feet.

"What time do you want us on Friday night?" Didi queried as she and Cam got to their feet, too.

"Let's make it seven-thirty," said Melinda, "so you'll have time to get cleaned up and change before you come, Dina."

Didi nodded. "Thanks for thinking of that, Mom. I appreciate it."

"I want to do as much for you as I can while you're still here. You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you when you move away."

"I'm going to miss you, too, Mom," Didi said.

"With Cameron living down the hall from you, I somehow doubt that." Mrs. Steadman looked at Cam and said, "If the two of you continue seeing each other after Dina moves to Colorado Springs, you'd better bring her home for a visit once in a while."

Didi smiled. "Don't worry, Mom: with or without Cam, I'll come home as often as I can. I don't intend to just run off and leave you guys without ever calling or visiting. I love you too much to do that! Sunday was just kind of an aberration on my part. Meeting Cam threw me for a loop."

"Now that I've met him, I understand. It's a relief to know that we'll hear from you now and then at least." Mrs. Steadman moved toward her daughter and put her arms around her. "It's so hard to think of our baby moving away from home—I mean _really_ away from home."

"You'll have plenty of time to get maudlin before she leaves, Mel," said Greg. "Now let's go!" He gave his daughter a hug and said, "Have a good night, Dee."

"You too, Daddy. Mom, I'll be fine. Try not to worry."

The Steadmans then shook hands with Cam and bade _him_ a good night as well, with Greg taking a moment to quietly whisper into the younger man's ear, "Watch yourself with her, Cameron, or you'll answer to me!"

His meaning was not lost on Cam. "I promise I'll be a perfect gentleman, Mr. Steadman."

Cam and Didi watched as the Steadmans walked to the door, opened it and left. Then they waited with bated breath to see whether they would return with some other thought in mind that they'd forgotten to mention. No, they were gone. Their distant footsteps could be heard on the stairs outside—the very stairs from which their own daughter had actually been abducted.

Didi plopped back into the armchair and exhaled a heavy sigh. "Wow! That was a surprise. I just figured they'd call and/or ask me to come over so we could discuss the birthday dinner. I didn't expect them to drop in like that!"

"I'm kind of wondering," said Cam, sitting on the sofa where Mrs. Steadman had been, "if they dropped by _expecting_ to find me here—or at least _suspecting_ that they might."

Didi's eyes flew open wide. "You mean, they were checking up on me?"

"I think it's possible."

Didi sighed. "You could be right. But, why would they? Mom seemed so happy when I told her it was _you_ I'd met. . . ."

"Think about it, Dee: you ostensibly ran off to Colorado Springs on a whim, didn't take your cell phone, didn't call home at all while you were there, met me—"

"—and spent almost the entire time I was there in _your_ company."

"Oh, really? You told your mother that?"

"Among other things."

"Let's hear the whole story, Dee. What, precisely, did you tell your mother?"

"Well, she wondered why I didn't catch an earlier flight—why I took a red-eye and didn't get in 'til after one a.m. So, I told her that it was because I'd met someone very special and didn't want to leave him any sooner than I had to. Then I left it hanging, waiting for the thought to penetrate and to see how she would react."

"So, how _did _she react? What did she say?"

"She was stunned that I'd said 'him.' I think the last thing she expected was that I'd meet a _man_ while I was in Colorado Springs, never mind getting attached to him that quickly. She asked the usual questions: how'd you meet him, who is he, what's he like . . . that sort of thing. So I told her a really lovely tale of how you and I met." Didi then repeated to Cam the tale she had told her mother.

"Wow! That's quite a story—and believable. I was headed downstairs to get my mail when we ran into each other in the hallway, huh? I'll have to remember that.

"Anyway," Cam went on, "with those 'facts' staring them in the face, your parents have probably been asking themselves, _If she did all that, what's to prevent her spending time alone with him while he's in town and not telling us about it?_ I'm sure your mom was relieved that the man you met was, at least, someone of whom they had a certain amount of knowledge, as opposed to a complete stranger. Still, they can't help but be concerned that I might be leading you down the primrose path, so to speak—and the last thing they want is for you to get hurt again."

"So, why invite _your parents_ to my birthday dinner?"

"They probably figure that they can get a handle on the kind of man I am by seeing how I interact with both you and my parents, as well as with them. If we're at ease with one another—if there're no uncomfortable undercurrents—they'll figure I'm a good, decent guy and they'll stop worrying."

Didi nodded. "I guess that makes sense. What about _your_ parents? How do _they _feel about this whole thing?—aside from wanting to meet me, I mean."

"My parents couldn't be happier that I'm dating a Kansas girl. Mom knew about Amy—about her change in attitude—and she was afraid to tell me, for fear I'd be hurt and disappointed by it. The fact that I found _you_ gave her the courage to tell me, and I just shrugged and said, 'Oh, well.'

"Dee, there's nothing my folks want more than for me to be happily married. That's why they're so anxious to meet both you and your parents. I had hoped we'd have a bit more alone time while I'm here, but . . . if all the time we're spending with our parents speeds up the timetable a little so that we can get married sooner . . . I can live with that."

Didi smiled softly. "I guess I can too, then. And you're probably right about this whole situation. My dad's fond of the old saying 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.' He probably wants to get a good look at your parents so he can get a better idea of who _you_ are."

"No doubt," said Cam, exhaling. "Now . . . what say we go finish our dinner? I'm starving!"

"Me too," said Didi, getting to her feet.

As they returned to the dining room, Cam said, "I wanted tonight to be special for you, but it's getting late now. We might not have time for that movie—especially since I want you to open your presents after dinner."

Didi looked up at Cam and smiled softly as he pulled her chair out for her. "I don't care if it's after ten when we start the movie, love. I want to watch with you—to sit beside you, in the dark, with your arm around me, eating popcorn and drinking soda. It's a date night, Cam. Let's not let the fact that my parents dropped in and took up twenty minutes of our time spoil it for us." She closed her eyes then and concentrated on reheating her dinner. Cam sat down and did the same to his.

It was nearly nine by the time they finished eating. Cam helped Didi clear the table, fill the dishwasher, and wash and dry the items that weren't dishwasher safe. Didi sang as they worked, and Cam was delighted to hear her. She hadn't done much singing at the decommissioned SGC and he'd missed it.

About twenty minutes later the couple was seated on the sofa, with the presents Cam had given Didi visible again and sitting in her lap. She opened the little one first. Cam took the wrapping paper and tossed it in the wastebasket nearby.

"Oh, Cam, they're beautiful!" Didi exclaimed. "They" were a pair of pierced earring studs. "I've never seen sapphires this shade before!"

"I bought them because they were the closest I could find to the color of your eyes. I know that shade so well, with all the time I've spent gazing into them. . . ." He paused and did just that, caressing her cheek as he did so. "I love you, Dee."

"I love you, too—and I'll wear these to work tomorrow: I have just the outfit to wear them with!"

"Good," said Cam. "Now, open the other one." An amused expression was on his face.

As the lid came off the box and the tissue paper was folded back, Didi burst out laughing. "Oh, Cam, you didn't!"

"Yeah, I did."

The large box contained a lacy black teddy with baby blue ribbons adorning it in various strategic locations. "If you want you can put it away and not wear it 'til our wedding night," said Cam, "but I saw it when I stopped at the mall to look for earrings and I couldn't resist buying it."

"I'll wear it on our wedding night, all right," she said, "and any time after that when I'm . . . in the mood. That way, you'll know whether or not you need to . . . persuade me."

"I think I can count on two or three fingers the number of times you haven't been 'in the mood,'" Cam remarked, "and you were severely distracted each time. So, either all the years of living alone have made you extremely . . . amenable, or . . . you meant what you said to Jackson about Paradise and ambrosia." It seemed he was fishing for a compliment again.

Didi smiled. "You're the most wonderful man I've ever known, Cameron Mitchell, and even if I could go back and change things so that I wasn't barren and could give Tad all the children he wanted, I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't trade the short time we've spent together for a _lifetime_ with Tad—children or no children. That's how much I love you."

Cam had a mist of tears in his eyes. "I love you, too, Dee—more than words can say." He kissed her passionately, leaving her quivering. "Shall we skip the movie?" he asked.

"We'd better not," Didi murmured. "Too much kissing leads to . . . other things—things we're not supposed to do anymore."

Cam set the packages on the coffee table and sighed. "Where's the movie?" he asked resignedly.

"On top of the DVD player, over there," Didi said, pointing. She handed the TV remote and the VCR/DVD player remote to Cam and then said, "I'm going to throw a bag of popcorn into the microwave while you get everything set up."

By the time Didi returned to the living room with a bowlful of fresh-popped popcorn and two cans of soda, Cam had the movie on PAUSE and was waiting for her. "Here you go, love," Didi said as she handed him a can of soda. "I know it's not your favorite, but . . . I haven't had a chance to go grocery shopping since I've been here, and it's all I've got in the fridge right now."

"It's okay. I like Sprite." As she sat down beside him, he kissed her on the cheek, unpaused the DVD and grabbed a generous handful of popcorn.

The movie ended well after eleven. Cam turned off the DVD and the television, took Didi by the hand, and asked, "Got any plans for tomorrow night?"

Didi shook her head. "No, I don't. Did you have something in mind?"

"I thought maybe I could take you out to dinner and a movie and then . . . sort of . . . hang out for a while. Maybe we could go out for ice cream again or . . . go dancing or something."

"We could dance right here," said Didi. "After all, this is a linoleum floor that was made to look like hardwood. We could roll up the rug and move the furniture and dance in our stocking feet. I have some music that's perfect for romantic dancing. . . ."

"I have to warn you: I don't dance all that well," Cam admitted.

"Can you move around in a circle to the rhythm of the music without stepping on my toes?"

"Well, yeah, I think I can manage that."

"Then that's all I'll ask for. I don't think the music I have in mind would work well with a waltz or a foxtrot, anyway." She smiled.

"All right, then," Cam agreed. "Slow dancing in circles it is. I kinda like the idea of holding you in my arms while listening to romantic music. Yeah," he added, nodding definitively. "The more I think about it, the better it sounds." He then sighed, squeezed Didi's hand and got to his feet. "I'd better head home. Five-thirty comes awfully early."

Didi nodded, looking sad but resigned. "I know," she said as Cam pulled her to her feet. "Let me walk you to the door."

"Okay," Cam replied, still holding her hand as they walked. When they arrived at the door, he released her hand, wrapped his arms around her, gazed into her eyes and said, "I love you, Dee." He then lowered his head and kissed her one last time and said, "Happy birthday, hun. I'll make dinner reservations tomorrow and pick you up from work at six-thirty. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."

Didi smiled softly. "Sounds good. Do you think you can find the optical?"

Cam shrugged. "I'll look it up in the phone book, take a look at a map of Topeka, check it out with a holographic projection . . . whatever it takes. I'll find it."

Didi nodded. "All right. Good night, my love," she said quietly. She opened the door for him, then closed and locked it behind him. Leaning against it, she smiled. This was one of her best birthdays _ever_. . . .


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33: WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY

Wednesday morning and afternoon passed without incident. Didi did contact Daniel during her lunch hour again, however, and told him what was happening tonight (Wednesday), Thursday night, and at her birthday dinner on Friday. Daniel expressed pleasure that things were "moving along so nicely" with both Cam's folks and Didi's own parents and said he hoped it would all go well.

Cam and his father spent the day replacing and repairing window screens and fixing the timing on the farm's one and only pick-up truck. When they finished, the two men showered and changed clothes while Wendy prepared dinner for herself and her husband.

As soon as Cam was dressed—in a pair of tan slacks, a teal polo shirt and a tweed sports jacket—he got into his rented SUV and drove to the Topeka Vision Center. He contacted Didi telepathically the moment he hit town. She waited anxiously for him to arrive and stepped out of the door as soon as she saw the SUV pull up out front and park. She locked the door behind her and almost ran to greet him as he stepped from the vehicle, leaving the motor running.

The moment he saw her, he knew she had told him the truth: the outfit she wore did indeed match both her eyes and the new earrings he'd given her. It was an easy-care pantsuit of polyester-cotton blend, with slightly flared legs and wide lapels. Under the jacket she wore a short-sleeved, white cotton pullover with a wide round neckline. "You look fabulous, hun," he said, grabbing Didi and kissing her ardently.

When the kiss was over, she said, "You look great, too. I like that teal shirt. Any shade of blue brings out the color of your eyes."

"Let's go. If we're going to get through both dinner and a movie and still have time left over for dancing, we need to get started."

Didi kissed him on the cheek as he opened the door of the SUV for her. "Thanks, love," she said. Cam then went around and got in on his own side and fastened his seat belt.

"By the way," he said, as he put the vehicle in gear and pulled out, "I checked the papers, but everything that's playing right now is either R-rated or a severe PG-13. Knowing how you react to profanity, the last thing I wanna do is subject you to the language that's prevalent in those types of movies. We'll watch a DVD at your place instead—if that's okay with you."

"It's fine with me, love," Didi said with a soft smile. "Thank you for being so thoughtful."

"Listen, when I get back to Colorado Springs, if I wanna go see a 'guy' flick, I'll take Teal'c."

Didi laughed lightly. "General O'Neill's responsible for corrupting him, isn't he?"

"In that regard? Yeah, pretty much."

"And what's _your_ excuse?"

"Me? I'm a guy. I like action flicks and I'm used to profanity. People in the military swear all the time. It's part of that whole . . . tough guy persona that career military people like to project—even when it's as phony as a three dollar bill."

"You should know."

Cam glanced sideways at Didi, a look of irony on his face. "Yeah, I should. A lot of what we guys do is for show . . . like a rooster struttin' his stuff and crowin' his head off."

"That's something of which most women are very well aware. So . . . what time are the reservations for?"

"I told them we'd be there sometime between six-forty-five and seven o'clock," Cam replied as he fastened his seatbelt. "I wasn't sure how long it'd take you to close up shop today, or how long it'll take to get from here to the restaurant."

"Where are we going?"

"Someplace new . . . at least, it's new to me. I hope you like it. I talked to some of my friends and they recommended this place. They serve a variety of foods, from hamburgers to fettuccini; from surf-and-turf to enchiladas. And they serve breakfast, lunch or dinner items any time that they're open. You can get pancakes for dinner if you want them."

"Or steak and a baked potato for breakfast?" Didi asked with an impish smile that Cam didn't see.

"I don't know. But since it takes time to bake a potato—unless you microwave it—that might be kind of difficult to manage."

"It would be interesting to find out, anyway. I might just be in the mood for one sometime," Didi said teasingly. The joke was lost on Cam, who was too busy trying to find the restaurant.

"Yeah, I know how capricious you can be—which is why we're going to this place. It's called 'The Eclectic Eatery.' You can look at the menu and order whatever suits your fancy at the moment."

"You think I'm capricious because I couldn't decide what kind of ice cream I wanted, right?"

"Pretty much," Cam said distractedly. "Oh! There it is." He pulled into the right lane and made his way to the parking lot entrance. It took a couple of minutes, but he managed to find a place to park.

Once they were inside, Cam told the hostess that he'd called ahead. She informed him that an intimate table for two was ready for them in a secluded corner, as he had requested. Didi looked at Cam with raised eyebrows and a slightly bemused expression on her face. "It's light enough in here to see—even in the corners," said Cam when he noticed her expression, "and I wanted us to have a little privacy."

Didi smiled softly. "You see, Cam?" she said, as they followed the hostess. "You _are_ a romantic. You just don't know what that means."

"You may be right," he replied when they arrived at their table. He pulled Didi's chair out for her and she sat down.

"Thanks, love," she said with a smile.

The hostess placed menus in front of them and said, "Your server will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," said Cam politely, making eye contact with the woman. "So, hun," he said to Didi as he opened his menu after the hostess had left, "what sounds good to you tonight?"

"Give me a few minutes, Cam! There's so much here to choose from!"

"All right, Dee. Take your time."

After perusing the dinner menu thoroughly, Didi said, "I think I'll have spaghetti and meatballs. I haven't had any in _ages_. It's not really something I've cooked since I've been living alone."

"Yeah, I hear ya. I don't get it often, either." He closed his menu. "I think I'll have spaghetti, too. You gonna have salad beforehand?"

Didi nodded. "It looks like they have a really good salad bar from what I saw when we passed it on the way here—lots of variety."

Cam agreed. "Yeah, I noticed that, too." Cam guffawed, took a sip of water, and said, "If I'd known you were going to order spaghetti, I'd've just taken you to Olive Garden."

"As you said, I tend to be capricious. I don't always know what I want 'til I look at the menu. If I _do _know what I want ahead of time, I'll tell you and we can go to a specialty restaurant. Otherwise, we can just go to a place that serves a variety of food—like this one—and I'll see what appeals to me."

"Since I'll eat just about anything, anyway," Cam said, "it won't matter to me where we go."

"Precisely. But, if there does come a time when you're in the mood for something specific, don't be afraid to tell me. I don't want you thinking that it always has to be about what _I_ want; it doesn't."

Cam smiled. "If I've got a strong hankering for something and you're ambivalent, _I'll _choose the restaurant. Fair enough?"

"More than fair." She graced him with a soft smile.

A nice-looking young man of college years approached the table and said, "Hi! I'm Josh. I'll be your server this evening. Are you guys ready to order?"

"Yes, we are," said Cam. "We'll both have the spaghetti and meatballs, with the salad bar."

Josh then asked what they'd like to drink.

"What would you like to drink, Dee?" Cam asked.

"Actually, I prefer milk with spaghetti. It helps counteract the spices in the sauce."

"All righty, then. Milk for the lady and a Coke for myself," Cam told the waiter. After Josh left, he said, "Let's go get some food!" Cam got up, pulled Didi's chair out for her, and they walked hand in hand to the salad bar. They each took what they wanted and returned to the table together.

After they sat down and began to eat, Cam said to Didi, "I really wanted a nice red wine with the meal, but I wasn't sure how you'd feel about that—especially since we had some last night—and I didn't want to be presumptuous; neither do I enjoy drinking alone . . . so I asked."

Didi smiled. "I'm glad you asked." She put her hand over his on the tabletop. "I love you, Cameron Mitchell. You're the most thoughtful man I've ever known—except for my father. Dad never says or does anything without thinking it through carefully first."

"Not impulsive like me, huh? Guess I should take a few lessons from him, then—and from _my_ _own_ dad for that matter. With all he went through when he lost his legs, he learned infinite patience."

"What about you while you were in the hospital recovering from your 302 crash? You must've had to learn a certain amount of patience, too. . . ."

"In some ways, yes, I did. But there're certain aspects of my life where I still get impatient. And waiting to be married to you is one of them, I'm afraid."

"That, my love, is perfectly understandable. I'm just as anxious as you are to begin our life together. But, as you told me before we came here, it's necessary for us to role play for a while—however long it takes to prepare our friends and family for the idea of the two of us as a permanent couple."

"Since they believe we already met and hit it off over the weekend, it might not take as long as we anticipated."

"I agree. But my parents are still wary. I'm hoping that having you and your parents as guests at my birthday dinner will remedy that situation."

Cam nodded. "Me too. Between that and my parents' plans for a barbeque on Saturday, it's clear they want to try to help things along. Maybe we won't have to wait weeks or months to get engaged."

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Didi opined.

While they ate their salads, they discussed plans for the future: what they would do and how they would spend their time once Didi moved into her apartment at the Grenadier Arms. They didn't have to wait long after finishing their salads before their spaghetti and beverages were delivered.

"It's nice to actually be able to sit at a table," said Cam, "instead of perching on the edge of a bed with a serving cart in front of us."

"Or eating cafeteria-style, like we did at the decommissioned SGC," Didi put in.

"I think I like normal life," Cam commented. "I like it a lot." He smiled, gazed into Didi's eyes and winked at her.

She returned the smile. "I like _any_ kind of life that has _you _in it," she said.

They then engaged in "remember when," laughing and sighing as they talked about much of what had happened to them (as clones) before coming here. Then they talked about the lives they remembered from before they were created—the lives their originals had led while they were still a part of them. They discussed those times as though they, themselves, had lived through them. And, since the incidents of which they spoke very probably happened to the Cam and Didi from this world, too, it was not inappropriate for them to do so.

Getting better acquainted with each other's pasts—the events and people that shaped their characters and personalities—was an important part of the learning and growing process for them as a couple. It felt good to pretend—to _believe_—that their lives were real and not solely the memories of their originals. They needed, now that they were here, to think of themselves as real people rather than clones. They needed to accept this life—this time, this place, and this world—as their own.

When they finished dinner, Cam paid the check and they returned to the SUV. He then drove to Didi's workplace so that she could get her car—which was, not surprisingly, a bright sapphire blue—then followed her home from there and pulled into the visitors' parking space closest to where Didi parked.

After they had both locked their vehicles, they headed up the metal staircase and Didi unlocked the apartment door.

Once they were inside, Cam declared, "I think I'd like to see the original _Brian's Song. _It was an ABC Movie of the Week back in the seventies. A lot of them were only an hour and a half long _with _the commercials. We'll get through it fast, and then we can . . . dance for an hour or so."

"All right," Didi agreed.

She was sobbing long before the movie ended. Cam, too, had tears in his eyes, but he refused to give in to them. When it was over, Didi grabbed a handful of tissues, handing one to Cam as he turned off the DVD player and the TV. "I really do like to see your sentimental side," she said with a soft smile.

"Don't you dare tell anybody!" said Cam as he dabbed at the corners of his eyes.

"I'd never do that, love. Until you're ready to show the world that you _have_ a sentimental side, I'm willing to indulge that one aspect of your male ego and let you continue to play the tough guy in public. You have nothing to fear from me."

"Thanks, hun." He took her by the hand. "Now, shall we dance?" He got up and pulled her to her feet.

"Let me put the music on. I have a romantic mix that's perfect for us."

"While you're getting the music, I'll move the chairs and the carpet."

Didi nodded. "'Kay," she said.

A couple of minutes later they had their shoes off and Cam was holding Didi close, turning in a tight circle with her as the strains of "Now and Forever" by Air Supply poured out of the speakers of her stereo. Didi closed her eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the smell that she missed so much when she awakened each morning. She wanted to engrain it into her olfactory glands so that it would remain with her throughout the night as she slept. She wanted to dream of Cam. More than that, she wanted the illusion that he was still with her.

Cam nestled his nose into Didi's hair, equally enjoying the scent of her cologne. It was a light, gentle—yet playful—fragrance that matched her character and personality. He equated it with her whenever he smelled it. He, too, wanted the illusion of their being together to last throughout the night.

Song after romantic song issued forth from the stereo speakers, and the words to each and every one had special meaning for the couple. There wasn't a true love song out there that didn't express in the most vivid manner the feelings that Cam and Didi had for one another.

At eleven o'clock, Cam's watch alarm beeped. "Time to go home," he whispered hoarsely in Didi's ear.

Didi whimpered. "Mm-mm," she mumbled through pursed lips, shaking her head stubbornly.

"Hun . . ."

"Mm-mm," Didi reiterated, holding him tighter. "I can't, Cam. I can't let you go . . . not yet."

"Dee, I . . . if I don't go . . . Please, hun. Don't make me break my promise to your dad."

She raised her head, gazed into his eyes and asked, "Cam, do you ever wish . . . that I were more like . . . other women?"

Cam gazed back at her with pain in his eyes. "Have I ever given you reason to believe that I do?"

Didi shook her head. "No, but—"

"I can't help what I feel when I'm with you, Dee. I'm a guy. It comes with the territory. But I told you back on Planet Max and a time or two since that I wouldn't change you if I could." He caressed her cheek with his thumb and continued, "I don't love you _in spite _of the fact that you're . . . virtuous, but _because_ of it. It means I can trust you—that you'll never let your eyes or your heart stray; it means that you'll never do anything to hurt me; you'll never give me cause to regret falling in love with you. Don't ever change, Dee—not even for me." He brought her face up to meet his own and kissed her fervently.

"I miss you, Cam," she said. "But at least tonight I can take the smell of you to bed with me. I miss waking up with that every morning—your scent. Before, even if you weren't in bed when I woke up, when I smelled your scent on your pillow, I could snuggle up to it and close my eyes and think of you and be content to know that you were close by."

"I understand, hun. I feel the same way. Every morning I wake up in that tiny little twin bed of mine and you're not there. The bed is too narrow, the room is too small, and both are too empty. But I'm content to know you're near, within easy reach, and that I can contact you anytime I need to hear your voice—even if it's just inside my head. All I need to hear is that you love me; then I can make it through the day. Now . . ." he said, placing both hands on her cheeks and looking at her seriously, "it's time to say goodbye. But, before I go . . . What shall we do tomorrow night?"

"Oh, crap!" said Didi, completely ruining the mood. "I forgot to tell you. . . ."

"Tell me what?" Cam asked, mildly alarmed, taking his hands from her cheeks.

Didi told him about her plans to spend the evening with her four best friends.

"Did this happen to your original, too?"

"She got the message on her answering machine on Monday night and replied to it just as I did, yes," Didi said. "I expect the party went through as planned."

"You never mentioned it back on Planet Max. . . ."

"You only asked me what my plans were _for my birthday_—not for any other day before or after that. Anyway, the entire time that we were alone together in that room, I was struggling with my feelings for you. Part of me wanted very much to fall in love with you; another part of me wanted to play it safe and was fighting against my more romantic nature, trying to keep from getting hurt again. In any case, on that particular night—the night that my original very probably _did_ go out on the town with her four best friends—I was in the tub singing to you. At that point, nothing else much mattered to me except my feelings for you . . . and yours for me.

"As for the here and now . . . all I can say is . . . even though a part of me very much wants to go out with my four B-F-Fs, another part of me would rather spend every minute I can with you. I'm torn, Cam; I guess that's why I didn't tell you. But I _have_ to go: this may very well be the last chance I'll have to spend an evening out with four of the best friends I've had in my life. It's a chance to say goodbye—one last hurrah before my life changes forever. Still, as I said, there's a part of me that'd rather spend it with you. . . ."

Cam shook his head. "No, Dee. You're right: you need to go. I can't deny you that." He sighed lightly. "How about I come to the optical tomorrow at two and have lunch with you instead? I know you only have half an hour, so we'll have to go to a fast food place, but . . . I just want the time, that's all."

Didi smiled. "So do I, love." She sighed. "I guess I'd better let you go. I just wish—"

"I know," said Cam. "And now that I know you're entertaining friends tomorrow night, I understand why you were reluctant to let me go in the first place. Except for lunch tomorrow, we won't see each other again until your birthday dinner on Friday."

"If the festivities tomorrow night end earlier than I anticipate they will, I'll contact you telepathically and you can come see me for a half hour or so."

Cam nodded. "Okay. I'd like that." He lowered his head and kissed her one last time. "I love you, Dee. Just hang in there. It'll be all right." He then kissed her forehead, released her and turned to go. "G'night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Cam," Didi called softly from where she stood, still in the middle of their makeshift dance floor. She watched with melancholy as he opened the door, turned around, gave her a casual salute and left.

Didi sighed and used her Power to put the chairs and the carpet back the way they were. It didn't matter that Cam had left without replacing them. As long as _she_ could do it, there was no need to bother him with it. He needed to go and she needed to let him.

When the job was done, she used the Power to turn on the lights in her bathroom and bedroom and to turn _off_ the lights in the kitchen and living room. No snack tonight. Tonight she only wanted to go straight to bed and fall asleep while the smell of Cam and his aftershave remained in her hair. Tonight she would dream of him, and all her dreams would be sweet.

Didi's lunch date with Cam on Thursday afternoon lasted longer than the anticipated half hour. When Dr. Prendergast came out of the exam room with his last pre-lunch patient—a man who had needed an eye exam for work purposes—he saw Didi chatting with Cam and called out to her, "If you need a longer lunch break today, Didina, take it. When Lori gets back, I'll ask her to cover for you." He then turned back to his patient, gave him his signed paperwork, shook his hand and said goodbye.

Walking into Didi's part of the office complex, he said, "You're Cameron Mitchell, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Cam replied. "Miss Steadman and I are . . . dating."

"I heard a rumor to that effect. I'm Hank Prendergast," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm very glad to meet you."

"Was it my mother who spread the 'rumor' that Cam and I are dating?" Didi asked her boss.

"As a matter of fact . . ."

Didi shook her head. "Leave it to Mom to tell everyone she knows. . . ."

"Under the circumstances, I don't blame her," said the optometrist. "Colonel Mitchell is a bit of a celebrity around here. Your father must be happy as a clam."

"More or less," said Didi with a bemused smile. "Dad would love to have Cam for a son-in-law, I'm sure. But he's not ready to trust him completely yet."

"Do you mean to tell me that your father is afraid that _Cameron Mitchell _might hurt you?"

Didi tipped her head to one side. "He just considers it a _possibility_. After what happened with Tad, Dad's understandably wary. I don't think he really believes that Cam would ever _deliberately _hurt me, but he's keeping a watchful eye on the situation, anyway. As for myself . . . I _know_ Cam would never do anything to hurt me. Would you, love?" She looked up at her former husband with a soft smile on her face and a light of tenderness and amusement in her eyes.

"Not on your life, hun," Cam replied. He put his hand on her cheek and kissed her lips briefly. It was at that moment that Didi's replacement trainee, Lori Manheim, walked in.

Lori appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with short-cropped medium-brown hair, hazel-brown eyes, a pert little nose, pouty lips, and almost elfin pointed ears. "Oh . . . my . . . gosh!" she said. "Didi really _does_ have a boyfriend!"

Dr. Prendergast thought about saying _"Not just any boyfriend. This is Cameron Mitchell!_" But he realized that Lori was probably too young to know who Cameron Mitchell was. So, he said to her instead, "Come with me a minute, Lori. I want to show you something. Colonel Mitchell, spend as much time with Didi as you like. Take the rest of the afternoon if you want to."

"Thanks, Doc," said Cam sincerely. "I appreciate it."

After the happy couple left, Dr. Prendergast took Lori to a wall that was covered with photos of various Kansas sports teams and their stand-out stars. He pointed to one particular photograph and said, "That is Didina's 'boyfriend.'"

"Wow!" said Lori. "He was an All-State quarterback? Gee, he was cute back then."

"He's still a fine-looking man," said Dr. Prendergast. "I believe Didina is in love with him."

"So, does that mean she won't be moving to Colorado Springs after all?" Lori asked, feeling the possibility of her new job slipping away from her.

"Quite the contrary, Lori. Cameron Mitchell may be from around here, but he's in the Air Force and is stationed at Cheyenne Mountain, the NORAD base in Colorado Springs. I dare say she'll see even more of him after she moves."

"Oh! That's cool . . . I guess. He's not bad looking—for an older guy."

Dr. Prendergast rolled his eyes and shook his head. Lori, meanwhile, returned to her desk, as the bell on the door had rung. Someone had come to pick up their glasses.

Cam and Didi spent an hour and a half deliberating over lunch at Wendy's. Although they would have liked to've spent the rest of the afternoon together, Cam had told his father that he'd come back and help him with some more repair work around the farmyard. He hadn't said when he'd return, but he felt an obligation to get back soon. He'd left home at one-thirty so that he could be there when Didi clocked off at two, expecting to spend only half an hour having lunch with her. That would've put him back home by three. Since Dr. Prendergast had told him to take as much time with Didi as he wanted, he had taken him up on his offer. Now it was already three-thirty and it would be going on four by the time he got home.

He sighed. "I've gotta go, Dee. Dad and I still have a lot of work to do, and I've played hooky long enough." He caressed the hand he was holding across the table.

"Thank you for bringing me, Cam," Didi said sweetly. "I'm glad Hank let us have this time together. I'm going to miss being with you tonight."

"Just contact me after everyone's gone, like you said. Hopefully I'll still be awake. If not . . . ." He shrugged.

"If you fall asleep, I'll leave you a message, somehow. I love you, Cam."

"I love you, too, Dee. C'mon. I'll take you back to work before I head home."

When Thursday evening came, Didi and her five friends had dinner at an upscale Italian restaurant that served a five-course meal.

A bottle of red wine was purchased by the group, only half a glass of which was consumed by Didi. Not being much of a drinker, she sipped it slowly throughout the evening. Peggy wasn't much of a drinker either, and had a single glass. As a result, the other three ladies drank the bulk of the wine and were all a little tipsy by the time they had finished eating. It could have been much worse had they not consumed large amounts of bread with their respective meals.

During the course of the dinner, everyone wanted details about Didi's move to Colorado Springs, and one of them even asked if she was going there because of a man. Before Didi could say a word, one of the other girls said, "Of course she's going there because of a man—unless Eddie Grant has had a sex change operation that no one knows about!" This brought a roar of laughter from the rest of the group.

"Actually," said Didi with a cat-that-swallowed-the-canary smile, "I'm going to Colorado Springs because of _two_ men. One of them is Eddie, yes; I'll be working for him. But there is another man in my life: someone from here in Kansas who is currently living and working in Colorado Springs."

The eyebrows of all four women shot up in surprise. "Who is he?" "What's his name?" "Do we know him or anything about him?" The questions all came at once.

"Oh, I'd say you know a thing or two about him. He's a certain former quarterback I had a crush on when I was twelve."

"_What?" "You're kidding!" "Cameron Mitchell?" "How?"_

Didi told her story—again. The reactions were mixed. They all wanted to know what Cam was like, of course, and some were surprised to learn that he wasn't in the least bit self-centered or conceited, despite his good looks.

"He's handsome and sexy, yes," said Didi, "but he's also quite down-to-earth; a really nice guy—very sweet and kind. I feel like I'm Cinderella and he's Prince Charming. I can't believe how lucky I am to be . . . dating him."

"Are you kidding, Dee?" asked Trina, a mother of three who had gotten married within a month of Didi and Tad and was the only one of the five women who was still happily married. "_He's _the one who's lucky! You've got everything going for you! He should be absolutely _crazy _about you!"

"Trina's right," said Jenny, a divorcee whose marriage had ended after only two years when she found out her husband was cheating. "You're beautiful; you're smart; you're sweet; you sing like an angel; and you also just happen to be quite . . . alluring."

"Yeah," slurred Shannon, the type-A-personality leader of the group who had planned and organized the gathering, "you're what they used to call 'a foxy chick.'"

Didi shook her head. She had never seen herself that way. She knew now that Cam did, though. It amazed her that such was the case.

"Face it, Dee," said Peggy, a divorced single mom who had left her two children with her parents for the evening, "you've got more going for you than Tad ever let on—or even appreciated." The others all agreed and toasted to Didi's happiness. They all felt she deserved the very best, and, of course, they all wanted to meet Cam. Didi, however, couldn't make any promises as to when that might happen.

"Couldn't we just . . . drop by your apartment sometime this week when he's with you and meet him?" Trina asked.

"He and his parents are having dinner at my parents' house tomorrow night for my birthday," Didi said. "And his parents have invited my parents and me to their farm in Auburn for a barbeque on Saturday night. . . . Let me talk to Cam and see how he'd feel about meeting you all on Sunday before he flies back to Colorado."

There were exclamations of delight at that proposal, and Didi promised to let them know as soon as she could whether Cam was willing to meet them or not. "He might find the idea of meeting my four best friends all at once a bit daunting. But, if he's up for it, we'll arrange something, I promise."

The conversation about Cam continued throughout the remainder of the meal, with everyone asking Didi questions about him, some of which she blushed at and refused to even acknowledge as having been asked. Her friends knew she'd always been "a nice girl," and they believed she would never do the things that those questions implied; Didi realized that. So she kept her peace and let them tease all they wanted to. _She_ knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.

When the meal ended, Peggy picked up the tab. She was the only one—besides Didi—who was still sober enough to do so.

Shannon—a twice-married (and divorced) businesswoman—had picked everyone up in her Lexus and brought them to the restaurant; but since she was in no condition to drive (and since the party was in Didi's honor), Peggy volunteered to chauffeur the group back to Didi's apartment. Shannon shakily gave Peggy the keys to her Lexus. Didi sat in the front seat with Peggy, while the others sat in the back seat, laughing, giggling and telling ribald jokes. Peggy got them all safely to Didi's apartment by nine-forty.

After Didi opened the birthday gifts they had each bought for her (primarily perfume and jewelry of various types), the five friends curled up together on the sofa and on the floor in front of the sofa and watched _An Affair to Remember_.

Between them, the ladies consumed two bowls of popcorn and enough soda pop to fill a small inflatable wading pool. By the end of the movie, three of the four visitors were asleep. Peggy was still awake. As the movie came to an end and Didi turned off the TV and the DVD player, Peggy sighed and said, "Well, it looks like _I'm_ the designated driver again. It's a good thing I live across the street from Shannon."

Didi helped Peggy to awaken the others, and they somehow managed to get them all out the door and down the stairs to the parking lot. "Are you going to be able to get everyone home okay?" Didi asked Peggy as she climbed behind the wheel of Shannon's Lexus once again.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks to the twelve-pack of Pepsi that Trina brought (since you never drink anything caffeinated), I've consumed enough caffeine to keep an elephant awake." Before closing the car door, she said, "Listen, Didi, when you get to Colorado Springs, if you meet a guy you think might be interested in a thirty-something office manager with two kids who likes jazz, hockey and all things Sandra Bullock, _and_ who has a timeshare condo in L.A., send him my way—or send _me_ **his **way. _I_ could use a change of venue, too."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Didi with a smile. "Take care, Peggy, and tell Shannon I said thanks."

"Will do." Peggy closed the door and started the engine.

Didi headed for the stairwell and contacted Cam as she walked. Receiving no answer, she sighed. He had probably fallen asleep. It was, after all, well past midnight, and Cam had been working hard on the farm every day.

Once she was inside her apartment, she teleported herself to Cam and found him sleeping in a chair in his bedroom, still dressed. As sad as she was to have missed the opportunity to spend some time with him, she couldn't help but smile. Even when the odds were stacked against him, hope still burned in Cam's heart. . . .

Didi used her Power to remove his clothes by teleporting them off his body and onto the floor by his bed. She then turned down the covers on the bed and levitated him into it carefully, after which she pulled the covers up over him and kissed him tenderly on the cheek.

Before leaving, she created a holographic message of apology and love that would begin to play for him the moment her name came out of his mouth in the morning after his father awakened him. It was all she could do. With a sigh, she teleported herself home and went to bed.


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34: ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

Since it had been so late when he had fallen asleep in his chair the night before, Cam was disoriented and startled into wakefulness on Friday morning when he heard the sound of his father knocking on his door and telling him it was time to get up. "Oh, crap!" he muttered. "Didi!"

Immediately, the holographic projection commenced. It showed Didi's sadly smiling face, with his bedroom as a backdrop. _She had actually been there!_

"Hi, Cam, love," she said. "You don't need to worry about anyone else hearing my voice. I put a parameter in the command that no one but you would be able to hear this message. Anyway, I'm sorry I didn't get to see you last night. My friends and I partied hardy, and it was after midnight by the time they left, as I suspected it would be. I tried to contact you, but I didn't get any answer, so I came here and found you sound asleep in your chair. I used my Power to undress you and put you to bed.

"Remember that, despite what happened last night, the rest of my life belongs to you. I'll see you and your folks at my parents' house tonight at seven-thirty. Have a good day, love."

Cam had gotten out of bed and begun dressing while he watched the projection and was fully clad by the time it ended. He sighed. That was the first night since he'd come to Kansas that they hadn't spent any time together. He wondered how he'd manage in the future when 'gate travel would get in the way. How did people on other SG teams who were married do it? Many of them had spouses who were clueless about the Stargate. They had no idea what really went on beneath Cheyenne Mountain. . . . But Didi did, and that would make the whole situation harder for her. She would worry about him any time he didn't come home at night—unless he knew in advance that he'd be staying and could tell her about it.

In any case, they'd simply have to work those things out on their own. _In marriage or any other serious relationship_, Cam mused, _you have to deal with each day as it comes, just like with 'gate missions and everything else in life that's important. Stuff happens and gets in the way. And you can't be overly possessive of those you love. They have other people in their lives that they care about, and those people will make demands on their time and attention now and then, too. You just have to accept it and be grateful for what you've got._

Cam uttered a quick prayer of gratitude to God for the insight, then left his room and went downstairs to meet his father. Something told him it was going to be a very long, very hard day. . . .

Didi contacted Cam telepathically as she sat at a red light on her way to work.

"_Cam? Did you get my message?"_

"_Yeah, Didi, I did. Thanks, hun. I really missed you last night."_

"_Probably no more than I missed you. As much as I love my friends, the party went on for much too long. I'm really sorry I couldn't at least spend an hour or so with you."_

"_We'll make up for it tonight, I promise. I don't care how late it is, I'm gonna stay awake and come to you tonight. I love you and I want you in my arms—even if just for a little while."_

"_You'll get no argument from me, love. Gotta go; I'm at work now. See you tonight at dinner."_

"_Love you, Dee. Have a good day."_

That evening, as she drove to her parents' house for dinner, Didi was wearing her newest purchase: an A-line dress made of satiny acrylic, with two-inch wide diagonal stripes that alternated between cerulean blue and white. The sleeves were half-length, belled and puffed out, with the puffy part covering a narrow strip of material that buttoned just above the elbow. The neckline was square. For jewelry she wore a gold filigree necklace with a white opal pendant and matching earrings. A pair of comfortable, white, dress sandals adorned her feet, and she had a cerulean blue scrunchy in her hair.

When she arrived, she found that her parents were slightly less dressed up. He father opted for ecru casual slacks and a light blue polo shirt; while her mother wore white capris and a lime green poly-cotton pullover with short sleeves and a yoke neck. She hugged each of her parents in turn and then said, "Just wait 'til you see how handsome Cam is in his uniform, Mom."

"I doubt he'll look any more handsome than your father did in his navy uniform. . . ."

"I wasn't an officer, Mel. There's a big difference. Didi, go on out to the living room and keep an eye out for the Mitchells, would you? Give a holler when they arrive."

"Okay." Didi did as she was told and sat on the sofa, watching out the window for Cam's rented SUV. Growing impatient, she contacted Cam mentally and asked him how soon they'd be arriving.

"_We're almost there, hun,"_ he replied.

Didi took a longer, more thorough look out the window. _There they were!_ Cam wasn't driving the SUV. Didi had a "duh"moment and slapped her forehead. Of course he wouldn't drive the SUV—not when his father had artificial legs. Getting in and out would be terribly difficult. Cam was driving his mother's all-wheel-drive sedan instead. Didi called out to her parents, "They're here!"

She ran to the door and opened it just in time to see Cam helping his father out of the car. He was wearing his uniform, and he looked incredible in it. She told him so telepathically. He looked at her and smiled.

Cam's father was wearing a pair of charcoal gray slacks; a dark blue polo shirt with a gray collar and gray trim on the short sleeves; dark blue socks; and black leather belt and shoes. Wendy was wearing a pair of tan poly-cotton slacks; an off-white, short-sleeved pullover; and a grayish-brown cardigan.

As Didi took all this in, she could hear her mother telling her father, "Go! Greet the Mitchells on behalf of both of us, would you, Greg?"

Didi stood at the open door and waited. Her father joined her. Cam had helped Frank out of the car, but Mr. Mitchell was making his way up the sidewalk under his own steam—with the help of a pair of canes.

"Welcome to our home, Mitchells," Greg said affably, smiling at the group.

Cam and his father allowed Wendy to enter the house first. As she did so, she handed the rolls she had brought to Didi, who thanked Mrs. Mitchell and then took them straight to the dining room. They were in a wicker basket and covered with a linen cloth to keep them warm.

Cam then insisted that his father enter next, and Greg and Wendy made sure he didn't slip going across the threshold.

Once the Mitchells were all inside, Cam closed the door. Greg then called to his wife, who came bustling out of the dining room. "Oh, _Cameron_!" she gushed when she saw him. "You do indeed look _extremely_ handsome in that uniform!"

"Thanks," said Cam with a bemused expression on his face. "Mr. and Mrs. Steadman, Didi, I'd like you to meet my parents, Frank and Wendy Mitchell. Mom, Dad, this is Didi, and her parents, Greg and Melinda Steadman."

After the introductions were made, Frank Mitchell told his son, "You said Didina was beautiful, Cam; I see now you weren't overstating the case. And it's obvious where she gets her good looks from." He nodded his head in the direction of both Greg and Melinda.

"Well," said Melinda, turning slightly pink, "thank you very much. It's easy to see where Cameron gets _his_ good looks from, as well. Welcome to our home. I hope you enjoy dinner."

Greg Steadman then said, "Let's go on into the dining room, shall we?"

As they entered the dining room, Mr. Steadman sat at the head of the table. Following instructions, Cam took his seat to Mr. Steadman's right, with Didi to _his_ right. Mr. Mitchell was across the table from his son and to Mr. Steadman's left, while Mrs. Mitchell was next to her husband, across the table from Didi. Mrs. Steadman sat at the other end of the table, with Didi and Mrs. Mitchell at either hand.

After Mr. Steadman said grace, the large, green salad Melinda had prepared was passed around. Each diner had a salad bowl in the middle of his or her plate, and there were four different types of dressing on the table to choose from.

Conversation during the salad course was general, giving the parents a chance to become acquainted with one another and with the love interest of their respective children.

The main course consisted of T-bone steak, baked potatoes, baby carrots and sautéed mushrooms. For use on the baked potatoes and on the rolls Wendy Mitchell had brought, there were two butter dishes: one at each end of the table for the sake of convenience.

As soon as he could do it after the main course was served, Cam began conversing with Didi. He kept his attention riveted on her in order to prevent her father from monopolizing the conversation with talk about football. Although he appreciated the fact that Mr. Steadman was an avid fan, this was, after all, Didi's birthday, and the attention rightly belonged to her.

Mr. Mitchell understood his son's desire to avoid talking football while in the company of such a beautiful woman—particularly since it was her birthday and he seemed truly enamored of her. Therefore, _he_ spoke with Mr. Steadman about Cam's football career, and soon the two older men were engaged in a highly animated discussion of Cam's stats: completed passes percentage, touchdown pass completions, touchdowns he had scored on his own by running the football, interceptions, sacks, and the worst injuries he had sustained when he was sacked.

The two mothers discussed what mothers usually do in such cases: their respective children and whether something was actually developing between them. They were both thrilled by the prospect: Mrs. Steadman because she knew that Didi had been praying for a good man to come into her life for a few years now; and Mrs. Mitchell because Cam had never married, and she had begun to despair that he ever would—particularly after she had learned that Amy Vandenberg was no longer interested in him.

As they ate, Cam and Didi discussed some of the things they'd been doing while in one another's company all week, in the event that anyone was actually listening. They talked about the movies they'd watched, the meals they'd had together, their lunch the day before, and their excursion to the ice cream parlor on Monday evening.

Another thing they talked about was their likes and dislikes when it came to food. Although they had learned a good deal about one another's tastes in food during the time they'd spent together before coming to this world—and a few new things since their arrival—there were still a number of things they had not yet covered. Whenever they found they both liked a particular dish or type of food, they communicated telepathically to express a mutual desire to either fix it for dinner when they were together, or to go out to that particular type of restaurant when they had the opportunity to do so.

As the evening wore on and dessert (fresh-baked apple pie à la mode) was served to those who still had room enough to eat it, the Mitchells reminded the Steadmans that they were expected to come to the farm the next evening for "an old-fashioned Kansas barbeque," as Frank put it.

The Steadmans expressed their delight at the prospect, and Greg was given instructions on how to get to the farm. (Frank drew a map on a paper napkin.) The festivities were set to begin at six sharp, in order to give Didi time to get her laundry and housework done beforehand. Greg volunteered to bring a watermelon, while Melinda planned to make and bring a potato salad. Didi would provide disposable plates, cups and napkins.

When the meal was over, the ladies cleared the table and took care of the dishes, while the men retired to the living room. Cam then took the opportunity to ask Greg about his plans for moving Didi.

"I'll be renting a van," said Greg, as he sat down in a corner of the sofa. "The size will depend upon how much stuff Didi has accumulated over the past three years. When we moved her to her current apartment, it only took a midsize van to do the job—even with the furniture that we'd put in storage for her while she was staying with us for two years. I'm sure it'll take more boxes and a bigger van this time around.

"We plan to leave Didi's apartment at around eight o'clock on Wednesday morning. It's about an eight-hour drive from Topeka to Colorado Springs—for Didi in her car, at least. Mike and I will probably have to take it a bit slower in the van. I've never driven anything that size on the Interstate before, so . . . I don't intend to drive _too_ quickly. Didi will undoubtedly arrive at least half an hour to an hour before we do—sometime between four and five o'clock, even if we stop for lunch somewhere along the way. You can help her unload whatever she packs in her car. Then, if the two of you aren't starving to death, you can wait for Mike and me to arrive and we can all go out to dinner before unloading the van. If we make it fast food, we can get the unloading done before it gets dark."

"Sounds like a plan," said Cam, who was seated in the middle of the sofa, between the two fathers. "I'll talk to Mrs. Granger and get Didi's keys from her so I can give them to her when she arrives."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that. Do you have any more questions or concerns about the move?"

"Nope; I think that pretty much covers everything. If I do think of anything else, I'll call and talk to you later."

"All right. Now . . . _I_ have a few things I'd like to talk to _you _about—things I've had on my mind ever since I first met you at Didi's apartment on Tuesday night. (Frank, feel free to listen in and comment if you want to.)

"Cameron," Greg began, "I'm sure you can understand that I've been a little concerned about the rapidity with which your relationship with Didi has been developing. She's my youngest daughter and I love her very much. I don't know whether she's told you or not, but she had her heart broken once already. It took her two years to pull herself together after the divorce (which is why she was living with us during that time). I don't think I could bear to see her in that much pain again."

"I don't know how much my word is worth to you," said Cam, "but let me assure you that my intentions are honorable. I'm in love with Didi, sir; the last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt her. In fact, I fully intend—sometime in the not-too-distant future—to marry her, if she'll have me."

"I'm glad to hear that," Greg told him. "I like you a great deal, Cameron, and I think you'd be good for Didi. But there are some things about her that I think you should know. She's very special—even unique. She has gifts—abilities that can't be explained or categorized. When you really get to know her, you'll realize that."

"I've already seen them in action," Cam stated. "Since I met Didi, I've already made three major changes in my life. In the first place, I'm not seeing any other women: I have no desire to; secondly . . . well, I am in the military, and profanity has been a part of my life and my vocabulary for years. But since I've gotten to know Didi, I don't swear anymore—not as much, anyway . . . and seldom in front of her. If I do, it's usually more mild stuff—nothing really . . . offensive. And third, I don't drink beer as much as I used to. I know she hates the smell, and I'd rather be with her than with a bunch of guys who are tossing back a six pack. I haven't consumed a single bottle since I've been here."

"Is this true, Frank?" Greg asked.

"Oh, yes, it's true. Surprised the heck out of me the first time I offered him one and he turned it down flat. He said it was because of Didina."

"That's good," said Greg, nodding. "Now, as a concerned father, I have to ask this question: Are you treating my daughter with respect?"

"Yes, sir, I am," said Cam. "I fully understand the kind of woman you and your wife raised Didi to be, and I do respect that. I respect _her_. I love her _because_ of who and what she is, not _in spite of _it. She knows that."

Greg nodded. "Having had the opportunity to get acquainted with your parents," he said, looking at Frank earnestly before returning his gaze to Cam, "I'm sure you were raised to be honest and forthright. So, I believe you when you say that you're treating my daughter with respect, and that you love her.

"Nonetheless," he continued, "it's been less than a week since the two of you met. My wife and I both feel that you should take your time getting to know each other before you make a full commitment to one another. I'm sure you think you're sufficiently in love to make it work, regardless. But, believe me when I tell you that marriage is not a walk in the park, no matter how much in love you think you are and no matter how wonderful you think the woman is. Marriage takes a lot of work. The relationship itself requires cultivation. It should be treated just like the crops on your farm: it needs to be fed and nourished to keep it alive and growing. Give yourselves time to be sure that you're compatible—and not just physically attracted to one another."

The discussion came to an abrupt end when the ladies exited the kitchen, with Wendy stating that it was time to go. The men moaned in protest. It was after ten, however, and Wendy knew that her husband needed his rest.

After saying their goodbyes—with hugs and handshakes all around—the visitors (including Didi) walked out the door together, and Cam handed the car keys to his mother so that she could unlock her car while he accompanied Didi to her vehicle.

"Didi," her father called from the doorway, "I'd like to talk to you before you leave."

She looked at her father and nodded. "Okay, Dad. I'll be right there."

Even before she turned her attention back to Cam, he began to think to her, _"He asked me about my feelings for you and my intentions toward you._ _So . . . whatever he asks you, Dee, tell him the truth—as much as you can, anyway. Don't fudge about your feelings for me."_

"Happy birthday again, Didi," he said aloud. "I really enjoyed it."

"So did I," Didi said, nodding and smiling softly at him. "It's one I know I'm going to remember for a very long time."

"I'm glad I was able to be a part of it. So, I'll see you tomorrow at the barbeque." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her warmly, sending to her telepathically, _"I love you, Dee. I'll come to you after my parents are asleep."_ He gazed into her eyes when the kiss was over, touching her cheek tenderly with his hand. While doing so, he heard her reply in his mind:

"_I love you, too, Cam. I'll see you in a little while."_ She surreptitiously kissed the palm of his hand, and then he backed away.

Frank was safely ensconced in the back seat of his wife's car by this time and they were watching their son and his new love with interest. Didi then re-entered the house and the Mitchells went on their way back to Auburn.

"Let's go into the back yard and sit down and talk," Greg said to his daughter as she came in.

Melinda stood nearby, looking pensive. "Greg, shouldn't we both—"

He shook his head. "You weren't in the room to hear what Cameron told me about his feelings for Didi. This has to be between the two of us. I'll talk to you about it later, Mel. Just trust me, okay?"

"All right, dear," Melinda said, nodding. But she didn't look happy.

Greg and Didi exited the house through the sliding glass patio door and sat down on the redwood swing that was situated under a tall, leafy tree, just to the right of and facing the patio.

"Didi, Cameron told me that he's very much in love with you and intends to marry you if you'll have him. I need to know—for absolute certain—how _you _feel about _him_."

Didi looked at her father earnestly and said, "I love him, Dad. During all the time I've been dating over the past few years, I've never clicked with anyone the way I have with Cam. I know you might think it's infatuation because of the crush I had on him when I was a kid, but . . . it's not, I promise you. I didn't even know who he was when I first met him; I didn't recognize him. He's a man now, not a seventeen-year-old high school student. It wasn't until he told me he's from Auburn that I put two and two together and figured out who he was; it didn't change a thing as far as my feelings for him were concerned.

"Dad, Cam has treated me with respect from the get-go. He's been kind, sweet and tender . . . and that's remarkable for _any_ man these days, let alone one in the military. His father taught him well. He knows how to be a gentleman. He knows how to treat a woman. And when he looks into my eyes, I know . . . I know he loves me and that I love him. Yes, it's happened quickly, but that doesn't mean it's wrong, or that we can't possibly be sure of our feelings. We are, Dad. Nothing in my life has ever felt as right as what I feel for Cam. When he holds me in his arms, it feels like I'm home—_really_ home. I can't imagine spending even _ten days_ without him once he returns to Colorado Springs, never mind the rest of my life. I want to be with him, Dad; I do want to marry him."

Greg sighed, nodding slowly. "I figured as much. I've seen the way you two look at each other. I was afraid at first that Cameron might be leading you on. What did we know about him, after all, except that he was a stellar quarterback? We knew nothing about his background, his family . . . We didn't want to see you hurt again, Dee."

"I know. I understood that from the very beginning. And I know that's why you invited Frank and Wendy here tonight. They're wonderful people. They _have_ to be to've raised a son like Cam. He is what he seems to be; there's nothing phony about him. I trust him, Dad; I trust him as much as I love him. I know he'll never hurt me and he'll never leave me . . . for _any _reason.

"And . . . he knows I can't have children. But he says there's a possibility that—with his Government connections—he might be able to get me to a world-class specialist . . . someone who might actually be able to fix whatever it is that's wrong with me. If it doesn't happen, I won't be any worse off than I already am, and Cam's willing to adopt. He thinks I'd be an awesome mom and he wants me to have that chance. _He_ believes in _me_ as much as _I_ believe in _him_. How could I _not_ love a man like that?"

Greg smiled a soft, almost sad smile. "I'm going to miss you when you move, Didi. But, if you marry Cameron—since he's from around here—at least we know we'll see you now and then."

"Yes, you will. And I'm sure Frank and Wendy will see more of him than they have in recent years, too, because I'll make certain we come home for the holidays—all of them—as long as he can get the time off."

"So . . . how soon do you think you'll want to get married?"

Didi shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't really thought about setting a date. Because things have happened so fast, we've been afraid everyone who knows us would think we're nuts if we get married really soon. It doesn't matter, though, _what_ other people think. Cam and I know it's right, and we want to be together. He's going to come see me later tonight, after Frank and Wendy are asleep. I'll talk to him about it then."

"Has he been coming to see you every night?"

"Except for last night when I had all the girls over, yes. We've been spending so much time with other people since he's been here, and so much time working . . . we need some time alone—just the two of us—to talk and solidify our feelings for each other. On Wednesday night we danced a little after going out to dinner and watching _Brian's Song_ on my DVD player. And every night he's gone home to his little twin bed at the farm. Cam's not pushing me, Dad—not at all. He knows what kind of a woman I am and he told me he wouldn't change me if he could. He loves me just the way I am."

"Marry him, Dee. If it's what you really want, if you're absolutely certain that it's right, just do it and don't let anything anyone else says deter you."

"What about Mom?"

"I'll talk to your mother. I know she's worried; I have been, too, as I said. But now that I know how you and Cameron both feel about each other, I'm not worried anymore. He's a good man—I feel it whenever I'm around him; he has integrity and inner strength. He treats your mother and me and his own parents with respect. He calls me 'sir.' I don't know if that's his military training or just the fact that his folks taught him to respect his elders. Either way, I like it. I like _him_. I'd very much enjoy having him for a son-in-law, even if he weren't a local hero. 'Local Boy Makes Good' would certainly apply to Cameron; there's no doubt about that." Greg got to his feet and Didi followed suit. He took her into his arms and kissed the top of her head tenderly. "I'll let you go now, hun." He then wrapped one arm around her shoulders and said, "Let us know tomorrow when we pick you up to take you to the barbeque whether or not you've set a date, and, if so, where and when you plan to get married."

Didi nodded. "I will. And I'll make sure Cam tells Frank and Wendy, too, tomorrow morning."

"Good. C'mon. I'll walk you to your car." With his arm still wrapped around her shoulders and her arm around his waist, they walked through the house and out to the driveway with Melinda in their wake. Didi hugged her mother and then got into her car and drove away, waving goodbye as she left.

After Didi had gone, Melinda approached Greg. "Well?" she asked as they walked back inside.

"Cameron's in love with Didi," her husband said, as he locked the front door, "and she's equally in love with him. They both want to get married."

"But, Greg . . . it's so soon . . . and she's still so vulnerable . . . ."

"Mel," said Greg, putting his hands on his wife's biceps and looking into her eyes earnestly, "we can't stand in the way of our daughter's happiness. She's already been through enough. I honestly don't believe she'll ever find anyone better than Cameron Mitchell to spend the rest of her life with. After talking candidly with both of them, I firmly believe that we should just let Dee live her own life and make her own decisions. She's going to talk to Cameron later tonight about setting a date. When we pick her up tomorrow afternoon she'll let us know what they decide."

Melinda had tears in her eyes. "Are you sure about this, Greg?"

"Yes, Mel, I am. I've seen it in both of their eyes—the love, the tenderness . . . I've never seen Didi happier than she is right now."

"Neither have I, actually," Melinda admitted. "You should've heard the love songs she was singing while we were cleaning up in the kitchen. . . ."

Greg smiled. "I wish I had. If she's singing love songs for the first time in almost six years, what further proof do you need that their love is real?"

Melinda sighed. "You're probably right. And if you trust Cameron—if you're sure this relationship is good for Dina—then I guess _I _shouldn't worry, either."

"It's all right, Mel," Greg said, leaning down to turn off the lamp on the end table. "It's the nature of mothers to worry about their children."

"Yes, it is," Melinda said, wrapping an arm around Greg's waist. "And it's the father's job to make sure the mother doesn't worry _too much_." Greg smiled, put his arm around his wife's shoulders, and together they made their way through the darkened house to their bedroom.

"So," Cam was saying to his parents as he headed home to Auburn, "what do you think of her?—outside of the fact that she's beautiful. That's a given."

"She's a very sweet girl," said Wendy, "and she seems very sincere."

"You oughta hear her sing," Cam said. "She has a heavenly voice."

"I did hear her sing," said Wendy. "She was humming quietly while we were clearing the table, and by the time we started washing and drying the dishes, she was singing. Not loudly, though. It was as though she didn't want anyone but us to hear her."

"Yeah, she's kind of shy in some ways about singing in front of other people." He explained to his parents what those conditions were.

"That is a bit odd," said Wendy, "but I suppose I can understand how she might feel."

"I wish she weren't quite so reticent," said Cam. "Whenever she sings for me, I get goosebumps."

"Yes, she does have a lovely voice," Wendy agreed.

"Do you think you could persuade her to sing at the barbeque tomorrow night?" Frank queried. "I'd like to have a chance to hear her sing, too. I'm probably the only one who hasn't."

"I wouldn't count on her being willing," said Cam, "but I'll try to persuade her. Just don't expect her to stand up and put on a command performance. She'll balk and freeze up if you do."

"All right, son. We'll do our best to make her feel at ease," said Frank. "Now . . . just exactly how soon do you intend to propose to her?"

"I'm not exactly going to propose to her, Dad. We've already talked about getting married. It's just a matter of deciding when. A lot depends on Greg and Melinda and how _they_ feel about it—about _us_, I mean. You heard Greg: he thinks we should spend more time getting to know each other before we get married. Personally, I think Dee and I know enough about each other to make it work. She's pretty much perfect as far as I'm concerned, and she accepts me for who I am, warts and all. We love each other, totally and utterly. I never thought I'd find someone that I'd love so completely, but I have. I love her with all my heart. I hope I was able to convince Greg of that."

"I think you did, son," said Frank.

"I'm gonna . . . _call_ Didi when we get home . . . find out what Greg wanted to talk to her about—what he might've said to her about me . . . about us."

Frank looked at the luminous dial on his wristwatch and said, "It's only a few minutes after ten. Why don't you drive back to her place and spend an hour or so with her? Take some time to talk about things. Find out what Greg wanted and figure out how soon you think getting married would be viable."

Cam smiled wryly. He would've preferred—in fact he had _planned—_to teleport to Didi. But, if his dad wanted him to go, he had no choice but to drive there again. "I think I will, Dad," he said. "I do need to talk to her—about a _lot_ of things. I'm gonna change out of my uniform first, though, and pretend I'm a civilian for a little while."

Frank smiled. He knew just how his son felt. . . .

Didi had reached her home. She grabbed her purse, got out of her car and locked it. Then she climbed up the stairs and entered her apartment.

After putting her purse on the wall shelf by the door, she took a good, long soak in the tub—not having taken her usual shower that morning. She reflected on all that had happened during the evening. It seemed that her parents really liked Cam, and his seemed to like her, as well. It was a good start.

About twenty-five minutes after she got out of the tub Cam appeared, wearing a pair of jeans, a navy blue T-shirt and a pair of slip-on canvas shoes. "Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself," she replied, smiling up at him while marking the Bible page she was on with the attached satin ribbon and setting the book back on the end table, as usual. She was seated on the sofa, dressed in satiny acrylic pajamas of royal blue.

"Did you bathe?" Cam asked, sitting beside her. "Your hair looks wet."

"Yes, I did. I wasn't sure how long you'd be, and I know it'll be late by the time you leave."

"My dad actually _told_ me to come tonight. Fortunately, by the time I changed out of my uniform, he and Mom were in bed. But, just in case they were still awake, I drove the SUV down to the end of the driveway (out of sight of the house), parked it and teleported here, like I wanted to do in the first place.

"So," he said with a sigh, "was I a good boy at dinner tonight?"

Didi reached up and ruffled his hair. "You were a _very _good boy."

"Woof," Cam replied.

"I love you, Cameron Mitchell," said Didi.

With a soft smile, Cam gathered her into his arms and kissed her. He smothered her face, neck and ears with kisses, causing her to tremble and moan. _It's not every girl, _she mused, _who gets to have two birthdays in one week and celebrate both of them twice—and with the handsomest man in existence. _Sighing, she melted into his embrace, wishing with every fiber of her being that they were still married. Holding fast to her resolve had never been more difficult . . . but hold fast she must.

"On the way home," said Cam between kisses, "Dad asked how soon I intend to propose to you."

Didi sat up straight and looked at Cam. "What did you tell him?"

"The truth," Cam replied, gazing into her eyes. He then told her what he'd said to his father.

"So, what prompted your dad to ask that question, anyway?" Didi queried.

"The discussion I had with your dad while you were in the kitchen with our moms." Cam then told her all the details of that discussion.

Didi sighed. "I'm not surprised. If I hadn't been divorced, Dad might not've been quite so wary. But, with my past being what it is, he couldn't help having concerns."

"Fortunately, I believe I put his concerns to rest. As long as we don't rush into anything, he's okay with our getting serious."

"I know," Didi said with a smile, and told Cam about the conversation _she'd_ had with her father.

"So . . . he flat out _told you_ to marry me?"

Didi nodded. "Yes, he did. More than anything, he just wants me to be happy. Once I convinced him that I really, honestly, truly love you, he said I should marry you. Then he said he'd talk to Mom and try to convince _her_ that it's all right."

"Wow. That was unexpected."

Didi shrugged. "In a way, yes, but not entirely. Dad understands me better than Mom does. He always has. He knows my heart; he knows my character; he knows my strengths and my weaknesses. If I am intuitive, I think I must get it from him."

"Maybe so. Anyway, thanks for the heads-up on what you told your dad about getting your pregnancy problem fixed. If you do get pregnant, at least I'll know what you told him and he can assume anything he wants to. If he asks outright and there's no documentation, we'll just tell people it's a miracle."

"Dad wants us to set a date—tonight. Any ideas? I'd like it to be soon-ish; but not _too_ soon. Our parents need time to plan the wedding and get the invitations out. . . ."

"Well," said Cam, "when I put in the apartment application for you, I chose the month-by-month plan. You're locked in for October, so getting married before November first would be impractical from a financial standpoint."

"What about _your_ lease, Cam?" Didi asked.

"I'm in through the end of the year," he replied. "Before I renewed my lease at the end of June, I talked to General Landry and asked him if he thought I was still going to be at the SGC for another six months. He said he didn't see any reason why not. If I do get transferred before then, they'll move someone else from the base into my apartment, so I won't have to buy my way out of my lease."

"Once we are married—whenever that might be," said Didi, "we can live together in _your_ apartment 'til your lease expires at the end of the year and then move into a house. (We'll worry about house hunting later.)"

"Then why don't we get married on the first of November, when your lease expires? I think it's a Saturday, so that'll work out well for any guests we might want to invite. . . ." said Cam.

"And it'll give our families and friends some time to get used to the idea that we actually are getting married," put in Didi. "And I can start moving my things into your apartment little by little a week or so beforehand."

"We may have to rent a storage unit," said Cam. "We've both been on our own for so long . . . we probably have too much furniture to fit into one apartment."

"We can take care of that the week before we get married, too—at the same time that I'm moving my stuff into your place."

"So, whose stuff do we put in the storage unit and whose stuff goes into my apartment?"

"We'll take a good, hard look at everything we both own and use the best stuff in your apartment and put the more worn out items in the storage unit," said Didi.

"I don't know what kind of shape it's in, but we're keeping your king-sized bed, Dee," Cam told her. "If it needs a new mattress and box springs, we'll get 'em. I kinda got used to sharing a king-sized while we were on Planet Max. I liked it."

"Me too," said Didi.

"Anyway, we'll work out the rest of the details later. Our parents wanted us to set a date, and we have: November first. I'll tell my dad in the morning when he gets me up for chores."

"And I'll tell my parents when they come to pick me up for the barbeque, as Dad suggested."

Cam nodded, got to his feet and pulled Didi to hers. "I'd better go. As I said, Dad and I still have to do chores in the morning, and there are a few things we need to do to prepare for the barbeque." He took Didi in his arms, kissed her one more time with fervor and said, "I love you, Dee. Have a good night . . . and dream about me."

"I will, Cam. I always do."

He smiled softly, put his fingers to his forehead and disappeared. As he materialized by the SUV and prepared to drive it back up the road toward the house, he heard Didi's voice in his head saying, _"I love you, Cam. You dream of me, too."_

He sent back, _"I always do, Dee; I always do."_


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35: THE BARBEQUE

Greg Steadman didn't have much trouble finding the Mitchell farm, for which Didi was grateful. She would've been mortified if they'd gotten lost and been late arriving. _"We're about a mile out, love," _she sent to Cam.

"_We're ready for you,"_ he replied.

"_I think things are going to go well today," _Didi assured him. _"I told my parents that we want to get married on November first. Mom says she'll get together with your mom so they can make plans for both the wedding and the reception. I expect we'll get asked a few questions as to where we want to hold both and who we'd like to invite to each event. . . ._

"_Anyway, after we finished talking about that, Dad said he admires you tremendously—and not just your football prowess. Your dad evidently told him about your 302 crash in Antarctica over dinner last night, too—as much as he knew about it, anyway—and my dad was quite impressed. He told Mom he's pretty sure you've got remarkable patience to have endured all those months in traction and physical therapy."_

"_I really didn't have a lot of choice. It was a matter of survival."_

"_I know. But it still shows strength of character."_

"_How does your mom feel about me now?"_

"_Mom said she likes you—a lot. She thinks you're very sweet and earnest. I don't think she's as convinced as Dad is that we're doing the right thing by getting married so soon, but . . . at least she's accepted the inevitability of it."_

"_I hope so. My parents really like you, too. They think you're just what I need. I tend to agree."_

"_Thanks, love. Oh, it looks like we're here. Are you going to kiss me when I get out of the car?"_

"_Pretty much like I did last night when we said goodbye at your parents' house."_

"_A soft, tender kiss to the lips—not too long and not too short?"_

"_Something along those lines, yeah," _Cam affirmed._ "I don't like to make a big show of it: I prefer to keep the passionate stuff for more private moments."_

"_I love you, Cameron Mitchell."_

"_I know. That's the whole idea."_

Cam was waiting at the end of the long sidewalk when Mr. Steadman pulled up and parked. He was wearing an older pair of jeans, an Air Force Academy T-shirt, and a pair of beat-up sneakers.

"Hello, Steadmans!" he said boisterously as the car doors opened and discharged their respective passengers. "Hey, Didi! You feeling any older today?" he asked with an impish smile as he drew near.

"Oh, yeah," Didi replied, returning his smile. "I feel positively ancient today, Colonel."

Cam took her hands in his and said quietly, "You look great; but then, you always do." He then pressed his lips to hers and kissed her softly—not too long, not too short. After breaking off contact with Didi's lips, he released her hands and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Steadman, welcome to the Mitchell farm."

"Thank you, Cameron," said Melinda. "It's so beautiful and peaceful here."

"Meaning we're out in the middle of nowhere," said Cam. "Believe me, I know."

"Cameron, where should I put this watermelon?" asked Greg, taking the object from the car.

"Follow me," Cam said. "Dad's doing the cooking and Mom's setting the table. I'll show y'all where everything goes." All three of the Steadmans took the items they had brought and followed Cam to the food preparation area. On the right-hand side of the walk—about two feet from it—was a line of rose bushes. An extra large gingham-cloth-covered redwood picnic table was situated on the other side of and parallel to the rose bushes and about three feet from them.

One end of the table was laid out with corn on the cob; baked beans; deviled eggs; carrot and celery sticks; pickle chips and spears; radishes; olives; corn bread; four kinds of snack chips and two kinds of dip; as well as ketchup, mustard, relish, and hot dog and hamburger buns. With the Steadmans' arrival the table was further filled with the paper cups, napkins and plates Didi had brought, as well as Melinda's potato salad. The other end of the table was empty, waiting for the diners to get their food and take a seat around it.

The watermelon was duly sliced by Cam, covered with plastic wrap by Mrs. Mitchell to protect it from flies and other insects, and then placed into an aluminum tub filled with ice. A large ice chest near the aluminum tub held cans of soda.

Cam was well aware that, under normal circumstances, there would also be bottles of beer in that tub. But when he had told his father that Didi couldn't stand the smell of beer, Frank had made the decision not to offer it at all. It was not that much of a sacrifice for the comfort of a woman Cam was in love with and intended to marry in six weeks' time. As far as Frank was concerned, Didi was worth it.

Frank Mitchell was manning the barbeque grill, which held burgers, hot dogs, steak, chicken and ribs. No sauce had been put on anything yet, as he was waiting to find out what everyone wanted. Orders were placed, barbeque sauce liberally applied where desired, and the large, oval Chinet plates Didi had brought were filled with each individual's choices of sides and condiments.

Throughout mealtime Greg Steadman was smiling and amiable and completely relaxed. Didi was pleased. He was, evidently, at peace with hers and Cam's decision to marry on November first.

As they ate, Didi requested to hear stories about Cam's childhood on the farm, since, growing up in the city, it was a lifestyle with which she was completely unacquainted. She heard once again the story of the huge tractor inner tube and Ned, the goat, and laughed at it even more than she had the first time around. Mrs. Mitchell was surprised to find out that Ned had actually done her son a favor that day and felt badly for having treated the old billy with scorn for the remainder of his days.

"Why on Earth didn't anyone ever tell me?" she asked.

"Because, my dear," said Frank Mitchell, "you'd already made up your mind he was guilty. The _subject_ was closed because your _mind_ was. You didn't want to _hear_ the truth."

Wendy Mitchell reddened. "I feel so foolish now!"

"It's okay, Mom," said Cam. "Everybody jumps to conclusions from time to time."

"That's for dang sure!" ejaculated Greg Steadman, thinking, perhaps, of himself and his initial suspicions about Cam and his motives.

"Tell me, Cameron," Mrs. Steadman interjected, "How has a good-looking, successful man like yourself managed to avoid matrimony for so long?"

_Oh, boy!_ thought Didi. _Mom still has issues!_

"Well," said Cam, "it's not really a matter of _avoidance. _I just never found the time or the right woman. A career as an Air Force pilot—when coupled with ambitions of becoming a senior officer—is a time-consuming one. And when you strive to be the best in your field—the very best you have the potential to be—you don't really have a lot of time for a social life. Yes, I dated, but . . . I never really had the time to invest in developing a long-term relationship. I'm at the point in my life, though, where I feel like it's now or never. If I wait any longer, that ship's gonna sail without me and I'll end up a lonely old man with a lot of medals and ribbons but nothing else to show for my life."

"So . . . you want . . . children," inferred Mrs. Steadman.

_Apparently,_ thought Didi,_ Dad didn't tell her what I said about that particular topic._

Cam shrugged. "I'd like to have kids, sure," he said. "But it's not absolutely essential. I know it means a lot to Didi, though, so I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help her become a mother. Unlike Tad, I don't have to father a child of my own to prove my manhood."

Melinda smiled knowingly. "You haven't even met Tad and yet you've pegged him. The judge who presided over the divorce hearing had a similar opinion in regard to his reason for leaving Dina."

"Which is why," said Greg, "he granted Didi pretty much everything but the kitchen sink."

Didi rolled her eyes. "Please don't exaggerate, Dad!" She looked at Cam and said, "Tad got the house—a small, two-bedroom cottage in an older part of town—and everything that was exclusively his. I got everything else—and a hefty alimony settlement."

"Tad filed for a divorce, and we countersued," Melinda told the Mitchells.

"Didi fell apart at the seams when Tad left her," Greg clarified. "As soon as they returned home from the specialist who told them she couldn't have kids, instead of taking her in his arms and consoling her as any decent, loving husband should do, he packed his bags and left. Our attorney asked for compensation for pain and suffering as well as wages she was going to lose by not being able to work 'til she got over the worst of the trauma."

"And it was only a few weeks after their fifth wedding anniversary," put in Melinda.

"Even Tad's lawyer realized what a schmuck he was by the end of the hearing," Greg concluded.

"Whoa!" said Cam. "I didn't realize it was that bad. Didi didn't tell me all that much."

"I really don't like to talk about it," said Didi. "Even after all these years, if I go into too much detail, it hurts."

"Oh, Dee, honey, we're sorry," said Greg. "We weren't thinking. . . ."

"It's okay, Dad. I probably would've told Cam the whole story sooner or later. Better it should come from you. As much as it hurts to be reminded of it, it would've hurt more if I'd had to talk about it myself."

"Cam," said Mrs. Mitchell, "why don't you take Didina up to that little knoll you always liked to visit when you needed to be alone? Then you can take her for a nice walk around the farm and show her your favorite places to play when you were a boy. Maybe that will help cheer her up."

"I think Didi oughta be able to decide whether she wants me to show her around the farm or not," Cam opined. "How about it, Dee? Feel like a guided tour of the Mitchell farm?"

Didi nodded. "Okay. I've never really been on a farm before."

"Not at all?—not even for . . . school field trips?"

"Maybe once . . . when I was little, but . . . I don't remember all that much about it."

"You were only in first grade at the time, Dina," said her mother. "I'm not surprised you don't remember."

"A farm is a very big thing—in fact and in concept," said Frank. "If you're not raised on one and don't understand how it works, it can be pretty overwhelming when you're first introduced to it."

"So, Didi," said Cam, getting to his feet, walking around to the other side of the table and holding out his right hand, "shall we go?"

She took his hand and swung her legs out from under the table. "What about our garbage?" she asked, as she stood on her feet and faced her hosts.

"Don't worry about it, dear," said Wendy. "We'll take care of it. You two just have a nice time."

"But behave yourself, son," his father cautioned him _sotto voce_. "You'd best keep your word to Greg, or I'll get out my horsewhip."

"Don't worry, Dad," Cam replied equally softly. "I'll be an Eagle Scout." He put up his hand in the three-fingered Scout salute. He then turned, took hold of Didi's hand again, and they started down the dusty road that led to their favorite grassy knoll.

"So, we _are_ going to the hill first, huh?" Didi queried quietly as they walked.

"Yes, we are. After what I just heard, I know you need to be held. It might help if you let go and cry a little, too. I love you, Dee. I don't like to see you hurting. I'll bring you back down and show you the farm when you're ready."

Didi nodded. "Okay."

"You know, Dee . . . there's a reason your dad was so worried about you—and about me and my motives."

"Because I'm his baby and was hurt so badly by Tad."

"That's only part of it," Cam said. He then sighed and explained, "You don't see yourself the way others see you, Dee—not that that's unusual; most people don't. But . . . even at thirty-four, you are still—in a lot of ways—naïve, gullible, and way too trusting. You're always willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, no matter who they are or what they've done. You never want to attribute anything people do to ulterior motives, because you never have any yourself. Your dad knows you're that way, and he wants to protect you from anyone who might take advantage of your guileless and generous nature . . . and I don't blame him. I've felt the same way since I first met you and saw it in your eyes."

"You'd think that—after all I went through with Tad and the divorce—I wouldn't still be that naïve or that trusting. By all rights, I shouldn't be. So, why _am_ I, do you think?"

Cam cocked his head. "I think there are some people who lead charmed lives: nothing bad ever happens to them. Then, one day, out of the blue, something bad _does _happen . . . but they think it's an isolated incident—a fluke. After recovering from it, they move on. They don't lose their belief that people are—generally speaking—good. I think you might be one of those people."

"Maybe you're right," Didi averred.

They had reached the hill. After climbing to the top—the first time Didi had had to do so—Cam took her into his arms and held her close, kissing the top of her head. She sighed and leaned against his chest. "I told you before that in my estimation Tad was a fool if he didn't realize that, even though you couldn't have kids, you were as valuable as any woman who could," said Cam. "I'm reiterating that. I still believe it. He was not only a fool; he was a sorry excuse for a man—by any definition of the word."

Didi smiled softly. "Thank you, Cam. I'm feeling better now. I had tears in my eyes before, but . . . they've all dried up. When I'm alone with you, all my troubles disappear. The pain, the hurt, the disappointment—none of it matters. If the world fell apart around us, as long as we had each other, I'd be all right. With you by my side, I can survive anything."

"I love you, Dee. I'm glad you feel better 'cause . . . I seriously need to kiss you."

Didi smiled a little more brightly. "Then why don't you?" she asked.

"I was waiting for permission. I don't like to take advantage of a vulnerable woman."

"You have my permission," Didi stated unequivocally.

The kiss was long, slow and deep. Didi quivered and collapsed against Cam's chest again.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me, Colonel Mitchell?" she asked breathily.

"I think I have a pretty good idea. And I think _you_ have a pretty good idea of what _you_ do to _me_, too."

"Mm, maybe. I only know that you and I (to use a trite, old expression) 'make beautiful music together.'" She raised her head, put her arms around his neck and looked at him wistfully. "At least," she added, "we used to."

"Yes, we did," Cam agreed. "It was an absolute symphony." He kissed her again with fervor, after which they lay down on the grass and cuddled up against each other. "This has very probably been the second best week of my life—speaking of _everything_ I remember, including my _original's_ memories."

"What was the very best week, then?" Didi queried.

"The week we lived at the decommissioned SGC, of course. As enjoyable as it's been to spend so many hours with you this week—and to be able to meet each other's parents and to share this time with them last night and this evening—I still miss being with you 24/7 like we were then. The others knew we were married and left us alone a lot of the time. They understood that we were newlyweds and on what might be considered our honeymoon. I was grateful they were so considerate about it."

"Me, too." Didi sighed. "I wonder if we'll ever have another week like it."

"Sure we will," said Cam. "After we get married again, we're going to take a honeymoon trip to the tropics somewhere. (We'll decide on a destination later.) We're gonna sleep in every morning, make love as often as you're willing, order room service at least twice a day, and not let anyone or anything get in the way of our thoroughly and completely enjoying ourselves for the duration."

"Mm," sighed Didi again. "It sounds heavenly."

"It _will_ be. It'll be a seven-day symphony . . . maybe even _fourteen_ days."

Didi rolled onto her back and asked, "Will they let you have a full two weeks?"

Cam rolled onto his side, propped his head up on his hand, and said, "Sure, if I want that much. And with you as my new bride, why wouldn't I?"

Didi looked bemused. "It's not as if it's going to be a _completely_ new experience for us . . . ."

"Doesn't matter," Cam assured her. "_Every_ time with you has been just as wonderful as the _first_ time."

Didi smiled. "I love you, Cameron Mitchell."

"Love you, too, Dee." He bent down and kissed her warmly one more time. Then he got to his feet, helped Didi to hers, and said, "We'd better head back down. If we stay up here any longer, our dads will probably send out a search party—or maybe even a lynch mob."

Didi laughed.

They brushed the grass off themselves, after which Didi took the scrunchy from her hair. Cam then ran his fingers through her hair carefully and replaced the scrunchy. They held hands again as they descended the hill.

As they headed back toward the farmhouse, Cam said, "My dad wanted me to ask you if you'd be willing to sing for him sometime today. Mom got to hear you in the kitchen at your parents' house last night; Dad wants a chance to hear you sing, too. I told him you'd balk if he insisted on a 'command performance,' but I said I'd ask anyway."

Didi shook her head. "I can't. Unless your dad wants to listen at the kitchen door while I help our moms with cleanup again—or if I sit on a picnic bench and sing while you and he and _my_ dad do the _outdoor_ cleanup—he's just going to have to wait for a better opportunity."

By the time they returned to the picnic area, the watermelon slices were being divvied out. Cam and Didi decided to stop and have a piece before going on their tour of the farm.

"Oh, hey, Mr. Steadman," said Cam, "this is a first-class melon. Sweet, juicy . . . absolutely perfect—just like Didi."

Didi blushed. "Please, Cam, don't say things like that!"

"She's a very modest young woman, isn't she?" remarked Wendy.

"She always has been," replied Greg Steadman.

"That's one of the things I like best about her," said Cam fondly.

When they had finished eating their watermelon, they went inside to wash their hands and then stopped to say goodbye before starting their tour of the farm.

"Have fun, you two," said Frank, "—and don't be gone too long. It'll be dark in an hour or so."

"I promise I'll bring Didi back safe and sound before it gets too dark to see," said Cam. "Shall we go?" He proffered her his arm and she took it.

"So, where did that tree stand?" Didi asked. "—the one your granddad tied the tire swing to that got split by lightning and uprooted by a twister?"

"Where the picnic table is," Cam replied. "The spot is overgrown with grass now."

Without further ado, they began their trek. Outside of all the red-painted structures on the property (including the house, the barn and a shed) there wasn't a lot to see—mostly just acres and acres of cultivated land—but it was a beautiful day for a walk, and the bright red paint was eye-catching.

As they strolled, Didi said, "Someday—after we're officially engaged—I'm gonna ask your mom if she has any recipes for some of your favorite foods. I'd like to cook a few of them for you—not that I think I'll ever be as good a cook as your mother is, but . . . I'd like to at least _try_ some things, anyway."

"You're a fine cook, Dee. I doubt very much that Tad would've wanted to entertain all that often if you weren't capable of fixing a respectable meal. It's just the difference between country cooking and city cooking."

"And you prefer country cooking," Didi inferred.

Cam nodded hesitantly. "Sometimes, yes." He stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Didi. They were well out of sight of the house and yard now. He put his hands on her shoulders, gazed into her eyes and said, "But if you really want to learn to make things the way my mom does, then do it because it's what _you_ want to do. Don't do it for me."

"But if you like country cooking better—"

"I like your cooking, Dee," Cam assured her. "You don't have to cook like my mother to please me; you don't have to cook the same foods she does. I'm perfectly happy to eat what _you_ cook _your_ way. I told you back at the decommissioned SGC . . . I'm not that picky. I'll eat just about anything. The fact that you want to cook foods that my mom knows I like and to do it the way she does tells me how much you really love me and want to please me. The thought alone means a lot to me. . . . I'm not telling you not to do it; I'm just telling you . . . it isn't necessary."

"I'd like to learn a few things from your mom, Cam. Whether I'll ever be as good at making your favorite dishes as she is, I don't know. I doubt it. But I really would like to try. Maybe I'll end up adapting them and cooking them with a style and flair all my own."

Cam smiled. "There ya go! A true Steadman-Mitchell collaboration."

"As long as it tastes good . . . ."

"It will. I have every confidence in you, Dee. I always have." He kissed her on the forehead and then said, "Now I'll show you my favorite places to play—as Mom suggested—and then we'll head back. Sun's starting to go down." He took the time to kiss her briefly once more on the lips, and then took her to his three favorite hangouts on the farm. He told her stories connected to each one, which gave Didi more insights into the boy who had become the man she loved so much.

As they turned around, preparing to head back, Cam stopped in front of Didi, reached into the pocket of his jeans and took out a small, blue velvet-covered box. "This is for you," he said. "Open it."

Her heart was pounding as she lifted the lid. "Oh, Cam!" she breathed, tears misting in her eyes. "It's beautiful! Where and when did you get it?"

"The same time and the same place that I bought the earrings I gave you on Tuesday."

The engagement ring contained in the box was a slender gold band with a half-carat, barely-blue sapphire/diamond in the center and a matching quarter-carat stone on each side; all three of the gems were square-cut. Cam carefully removed the ring from the box and slid it gently onto Didi's finger. "There!" he said with a soft smile. "Now we're officially engaged."

Didi clasped the little box, closing it. She then held it tightly in her hand as she wrapped her arms around Cam's neck and kissed him again. "I love you, Colonel Mitchell!" she said at length.

Cam smiled softly. "Let's head back and show it to our folks, shall we?"

"Mm-hm," Didi agreed, nodding.

By the time they returned, their fathers were sitting on lawn chairs, enjoying the evening air; their mothers were in the house, putting leftovers into plastic storage containers and washing what little silverware and dishware had been used. The barbeque grill was clean—very probably taken care of by the men before they sat down to rest. So much for Didi's opportunity to sing while they worked . . . .

"Hey, you two," said Frank, "how was the tour? What do you think of our farm, Didi?"

"Hm?" Didi asked distractedly. Her arm was linked through Cam's and she was gazing up at him adoringly. "What?"

"Frank was just asking how you like the farm, sweetheart," her father said.

"Oh! It's nice," said Didi, turning her attention to Frank, "although I don't really have anything to compare it to. But it is a beautiful place. I like it very much."

"Dee, why don't you show them the ring, hun?" Cam suggested quietly.

"'Kay," Didi replied with a cryptic Mona Lisa smile on her face. "See?" She held out her left hand in plain view of both fathers.

Frank whistled; Greg's mouth dropped open and his eyes went immediately to Cam's. "That's quite a ring," he said. "Where and when did you get it?"

"I bought it Tuesday night, before going to Didi's for dinner. I passed a mall on the way there, and, since we'd already decided we wanted to get married, I bought it. I just didn't want to put it on her finger until you guys were okay with it. But it's the first time she's seen it, too."

"Well, Greg," said Frank, "it looks as though it's official. No backing out now."

Greg smiled softly and shook his head. "I never thought it'd happen—at least, not like this. I always hoped and prayed that someday Didi would find a man who was truly worthy of her, but . . . I didn't expect it to be someone like Cameron, and I didn't expect it to happen so quickly—almost overnight!"

"If there's one thing I've learned from Didi," said Cam, "it's that miracles still happen. She's living proof of it—and so is our love. God had a hand in our meeting and, I believe, in the speed with which we fell in love with each other. This isn't normal; we both know that. But it is real and it is right. We both know that, too."

"You've convinced us," said Frank, "all four of us. Your mothers are probably making wedding plans as we speak."

"Speaking of the mothers . . . soon as the ladies are through in the kitchen, we should be heading home," said Mr. Steadman.

"Aw, c'mon, Greg!" said Frank. "It's early yet. Let's at least let the kids have a little more time together before we separate them."

"Our family goes to church at nine or nine-thirty on Sunday mornings," said Greg, "—depending on where we attend—and then Melinda and I have brunch with Didi and one or the other of her siblings and his or her family. It's Theresa's turn to come tomorrow with her brood. (She's our oldest; turned thirty-eight back in April.)"

"Dad," said Didi, "do you think Mom would mind if Cam came to brunch with me tomorrow? His flight doesn't leave 'til ten-thirty tomorrow night, so there's no rush if we decide we want to spend a little more time with you and Mom. . . ."

Greg said to Didi, "I'm sure your mother would love to have Cameron to brunch." He looked up at Cam then and said, "But I'm putting one condition on the invitation."

"What might that be?" Cam asked with just a smidgen of trepidation, due to the look in his future father-in-law's eyes.

"That you go to Sunday service with Didi in the morning," Greg replied.

"I can do that," said Cam. "I'd like to spend as much time with her as I can before I head back to Colorado Springs, anyway."

The mothers exited the house then—Melinda carrying the bowlful of what remained of the salad she had brought.

Greg Steadman got to his feet. "There you are! I was just saying we should probably head home now. It's getting dark and the bugs are starting to bite." He slapped at his neck. "Before we go, though, Didi has something she wants to show you two."

Didi held out her hand for the mothers to see. Their reactions were even more pronounced than those of the dads. Melinda was especially moved and began to cry. "I've never seen anything so beautiful!" she effused. "Cameron, you truly must love Dina to have bought such a magnificent ring!"

"I do, Mrs. S. Didi is everything to me. I hope you realize that now. Ever since I met her, I've known that my life would never be the same. It would be empty without her."

Wendy Mitchell had tears in her eyes, too. "I'm so proud of you, son!" she said, reaching up and kissing Cam on the cheek.

"Well, this is a great way to end the evening," said Greg, getting to his feet, "and end it must."

"Before you go," said Wendy, "Didina needs to gather up the things she brought. She may want to make use of them during her last few days in Topeka, once she has all of her dishes packed away."

Didi nodded. "Good idea." She walked quickly to the redwood table that held what remained of the Chinet plates and the paper cups. "You can keep the napkins," she called out to Wendy. "I have more than enough of those to last until I move."

"All right, dear," Mrs. Mitchell replied. "Thank you."

Frank Mitchell got to his feet slowly—with some slight assistance from Wendy and Greg—while Cam joined Didi at the table. Cam took the Chinet plates in his left hand, while she held the paper cups in her right. They then clasped their free hands and headed toward the Steadmans' vehicle. "We'll wait for you at the car," Cam said back over his shoulder to the parents.

"_You're coming to me later, aren't you?"_ Didi asked telepathically.

"_Yes, but they don't know that. As far as they're concerned, this is goodbye for us 'til tomorrow morning. We may as well make it look convincing."_

"_How convincing?"_

Cam smiled softly in the darkness. _"Oh, it won't be overtly _**passionate**_, but it will be . . . tantalizing."_

Didi smiled back. _"I can hardly wait!"_

They had reached the car. Cam let go of Didi's hand, turned to face her, lifted her chin and gave her the promised kiss; it was long, slow and deeply satisfying. Didi had closed her eyes, as was her wont, and she sighed as their lips parted. She smiled and said, "I love you."

Cam returned both the smile and the sentiment, then asked, "What time shall I pick you up for church in the morning?"

"I go at nine-thirty," she said, "and the meetinghouse is only a ten minute drive from my apartment, so . . . anytime before nine-twenty is fine."

"I'll leave here before nine, then. . . . Oh, by the way . . . would you rather I wear my uniform or a suit? I do own one. I just don't wear it all that often."

"Maybe you should go suit-shopping when you get back to Colorado Springs, Cam," said Wendy, who, along with her husband and the Steadmans, had arrived on the scene. "It wouldn't hurt you to start going to church on a regular basis—especially since you wouldn't have to go alone once Didina moves into your building. And if you do, it might be nice to own more than one suit."

"I'd love to have you go to church with me, if you're willing," Didi said to Cam, taking the plates from him. "Not that I'd have to go alone, anyway . . . I'm sure I could go with Eddie and his family. But they might not go to the meetinghouse that's closest to the Grenadier Arms, and then I'd have to drive a ways through a town I don't know yet, and—"

"All right, all right! You've convinced me: I'll take Didi to church every Sunday once she moves in. Grandma's probably dancing in her grave right about now. . . ."

Frank and Wendy laughed. "She probably is at that," said Frank.

"Thanks again for your hospitality and for all the wonderful food," said Mr. Steadman. "We had a great time—especially Didi, I'm sure."

She nodded and said, "Yes, I did," looking at Cam longingly as she said it, glad that he would be teleporting to her in a few hours.

Final good nights were said, and Cam opened Didi's door for her. She placed the plates and paper cups on the seat beside her, after which he took her hand and kissed it tenderly. He then backed up and stood beside his parents, calling and waving as Greg Steadman turned the vehicle around and drove down the dirt drive that led off the Mitchell property.

Didi took a shower as soon as she arrived home: she was covered in dust and needed to be rinsed clean from head to toe. Afterward, she slid into her pajamas and went to the living room to do her Bible study. She had just closed the book and was setting it on the end table when Cam appeared, once again wearing a pair of jeans over his "sleepwear."

"Hi," he said. "Just starting?—or just finishing?"

"Just finishing," Didi replied with a soft smile. "I was about to go to the kitchen and get myself a snack. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure," Cam said with a shrug. "Wha'd you have in mind?"

"I thought I might just have a cup of pudding."

"Cool! I like pudding."

Cam chose a cup of plain chocolate; Didi took a chocolate and vanilla mix. She then got spoons from her silverware drawer and handed one to Cam. They sat down at the table while they ate and Didi said, "You know, love, I've been thinking about these two Sundays—last week (the fourteenth), and tomorrow (the twenty-first). Even though we came to this world late on Sunday night and the Didina from here was absent from church that day, _I_ didn't miss the sermon for the fourteenth because I was still a part of my original when _she_ went to church that day—I experienced that day's sermon through her. As for tomorrow . . . I may've missed the sermon on the twenty-first while we were at the decommissioned SGC (which I felt _really _guilty about at the time), but I'll have a chance to make up for it in the here and now."

Cam smiled. "There ya go! Despite—or maybe because of—our travels through time and different universes, you haven't missed a single sermon all month! I'll bet that's never happened to anyone in quite that way before."

"And probably never will again, either. I mean, what are the odds?"

"Astronomically against, I'd say," opined Cam. "Speaking of church . . . You never did answer my question about what I should wear tomorrow. I'd rather not wear my uniform if it's all the same to you; I don't wanna draw that much attention to myself if I can help it."

"What's your suit like?"

He used a holographic projection to show her the outfit he had been wearing the night of his high school reunion.

"Wow! With the blue shirt, it's almost as striking as your uniform, but . . ."

"But you want me to wear my uniform," Cam surmised dejectedly. He sighed. "Dee, you know I'd do anything for you, but . . . honestly. Do I have to?"

"It's not just because I think you look handsomer in your uniform. There are other reasons. . . ." She then proceeded to tell him what they were.

After hearing her explanation, Cam sighed again. "All right; I'll wear my uniform—tomorrow, anyway. Then, sometime after I get home, I'll go get another suit, like my mom said. Since both of us will be new to the church in Colorado Springs, no one will know the difference, and I can just change off between suits every other week."

"Sounds like a plan," said Didi with a soft smile.

"Anything else I should know?"

"Well, since we'll be going to Sunday brunch after church tomorrow, I should probably tell you a little about my sister, Theresa. . . ."

When Didi's narrative was through, Cam said, "Thanks for the heads up. I appreciate it."

"C'mon," Didi said, getting to her feet to take the empty pudding cups and the spoons away.

But Cam said, "Here, let me. You go on out to the living room and put some romantic music in the stereo. I wanna dance with you for a few minutes before I leave."

Didi smiled softly. "All right," she said.

As Didi exited the kitchen, Cam took the two pudding cups and tossed them in the trash; then he put the spoons in the dishwasher. By the time he entered the living room, Didi was swaying to "You're the Inspiration" by Chicago. He smiled, took her in his arms, and the dancing began.

It was after midnight by the time Cam teleported himself home, the smell of Didi lingering in his nostrils once again. He wouldn't get a lot of sleep, he mused as he undressed, but it didn't matter. He would dream of Didi tonight and take her to church in the morning. Whatever the consequences of that might be, it would be worth it. _Didi_ was worth it. Didi, he told God as he prayed, was worth _everything._


	36. Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36: SUNDAY

Before retiring for the night, Cam's parents had informed him that he could sleep until seven the next morning—on condition that he promised to bring Didi over for dinner on Sunday evening prior to his leaving for the airport. And, since it was his last day home (probably until the wedding), they didn't want to make him spend it doing chores—especially before going to church with Didi.

He awakened on Sunday to the smell of fresh-brewed coffee and frying bacon. He would get one last down-home, farm-style breakfast before he had to return to Colorado. He got out of bed quickly and then took time to pray—even mentioning how grateful he was that Didi had, by her example, taught him to do so. He then put on a pair of jeans and hurried downstairs to the kitchen.

Didi wakened at around the same time Cam did, but she chose to lie in bed awhile, gazing at the ceiling and thinking.

Everything would change after today: Cam would be returning to work, which meant 'gate travel. He could be in danger at any time; get stuck off world somewhere—or even contract an alien disease of some kind. Her heart and throat constricted at the thought.

God had told her to have faith—that she and Cam were in His hands. This universe is where they had chosen to come because the Cam and Didi who belonged here had died unjustly on an alien world. She didn't believe that God would be so cruel as to allow one or both of the clones to die as well—unless it was a part of His plan that the Steadmans and/or the Mitchells suffer such a terrible loss so that they could learn and grow from the experience.

Whatever the case might be, the time was now at hand when they would have to face the possibility of peril in the future. Feeling the need to seek for comfort and reassurance again, Didi climbed out of bed, sighed heavily, and got to her knees.

She began by thanking the Lord once more for the privilege of having Cam in her life; for the love they had for each other; for their respective parents, and for the time they had had to spend together with them; for the fact that their parents got along so well and had accepted them as a couple. She then prayed for her family, including grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins—particularly those who were far away and those in the military. Next she prayed for Cam's parents, whom she very dearly loved.

Finally, with all the courage she could muster, she dared to address the Lord in regard to Cam and his safety, once he returned to active duty at the SGC. She made it clear that she didn't expect him to be kept _completely_ from harm: that would be asking a bit _too_ much. Even people with desk jobs got paper cuts, banged their knees on their desks, or got a digit caught in a drawer. There wasn't a job in the universe—no matter how simple—that wasn't hazardous in some way. She only asked that Cam be returned home safely—and in one piece—after each trip through the 'gate. As long as she possessed the Chak-tuk Power she could heal him of any injuries he might receive.

She had envisioned using holographic projections each night after she got home from work to see where Cam was and what he was doing. If she found he was in trouble, she would cloak herself, teleport to him and assist him—along with the rest of SG-1—if it was necessary and within her power to do so. She timidly asked if she might be permitted to do that. She expressed understanding that it might not be fair, since no other SG-1 anywhere in the multi-verse had a Didi with the Chak-tuk Power to assist them in any way, but she couldn't bear the thought of just sitting by and doing nothing if there was, indeed, something she could do.

The feeling came to her—very strongly—that interfering in that way was forbidden. She had her agency and could do as she chose, but if she did, the Power would be taken away. It would be better for her to have faith in SG-1. They had, after all, survived for many years without her and could continue to do so. _Believe_, the Voice said. _You and they are in my hands_.

After ending her prayer, she lay back down on her bed and sighed. _Why was it so much easier on Planet Max and at the decommissioned SGC to have complete and utter faith in God than it was now that she was here, on Earth, with her family and friends around her?_

"Maybe," she said aloud, "it's _because_ my friends and family are here. The life we lived together on Planet Max and at the decommissioned SGC was, in a way, out of time and space for us—particularly since we went back in time to come here.

"Back then it was just the six of us; we didn't have anyone else. We depended on each other and, in my case, on the Lord. But now that we're here—and I'm surrounded by people I know and love—real, down-to-earth, everyday life makes depending on God less . . . crucial, I guess. It _shouldn't _. . . especially since I still have the Chak-tuk Power to prove to me that everything we went through wasn't just a dream or my imagination. I was given this Power for a reason: to save the clones and to find new lives for all of us." She sat bolt upright.

"That's the whole point, though, isn't it? I fulfilled my purpose. I was only planning to keep the Power so that I could undo the Binding after Cam and I were married. And, even though I already had to remove the Binding—and was planning to relinquish the Power because of it—once I found out that Cam was coming to Kansas for the week, I decided to keep it so that we could spend more time together.

"But . . . if it's going to tempt me to do things I shouldn't—like trying to save or protect Cam and the others—maybe I should relinquish it now, tonight, after I take it from Cam. It would mean that we couldn't spend any time at all together for about a week and a half . . . which really wouldn't be _too_ bad, would it? Once I move in down the hall from him, spending time together won't require teleporting.

"So, the question is: Should I relinquish the Power tonight, after Cam leaves, so that I won't be tempted to misuse it over the next ten days? Or should I keep it so that I can spend time with Cam in the evenings and on the weekend, and try my hardest _not_ to give in to the temptation to help SG-1?

"I mean, if I used it to help them even _once_ God would take the Power from me and I'd never be able to use it again, so . . . would it really be worth the risk?" She sighed again and closed her eyes.

"_Daniel, it's Didi. Can you hear me?"_

"_Yeah, Didi, I hear you. How're things going?"_

Didi told him all that had happened over the last couple of days.

"_So, you two are officially engaged already, huh? That was unexpected—although probably a tremendous relief to the two of you."_

"_It is. But now I have another problem." _She then explained her dilemma.

"_I can't tell you what to do, Didi," _Daniel said. _"The choice has to be yours . . . although you might want to talk with Mitchell about it and see how _**he**_ feels. I have a pretty good idea what he'll say, though: that you should keep the Power so that you can teleport to him after work every evening, but to try not to help him or SG-1, no matter how much trouble they get into. He wouldn't want you to risk your life—or the permanent loss of the Chak-tuk Power—to save them. And if _**I**_ were there on that SG-1, I'd concur. If the only reason you're keeping the Power is so you can spend time each evening with Mitchell, why throw it away too soon by being reckless with it? The members of SG-1 are generally pretty capable of taking care of themselves. But if they _**do**_ get into hot water, General Landry will send another team after them. Don't borrow trouble, Didi. It's entirely possible nothing will happen to them during those ten days, anyway."_

"_You're right. I just needed an outside opinion again. Thanks for your input, Daniel. You always help me to see things more clearly."_

"_Glad I could help. I'd better let you go so you can get ready for church. I'd love to see how Mitchell takes to _**that**_ scene."_

"_Oh, I have a feeling he'll take to it a lot better than you think he will."_

"_For your sake, I hope so. Talk to you later, Didi."_

"_Bye, Daniel."_

By the time Didi finished her telepathic conversation with Daniel, eight-thirty was approaching. She had to eat breakfast and get ready for church. Cam would be there in less than an hour.

It was nine-seventeen when Cam knocked on her door. She opened it and her face lit up, as it did every time she saw him in uniform. As far as Didi was concerned, Cam was _always_ handsome—but most especially when he was wearing his uniform.

"Every woman in the congregation is gonna envy me today," she said to him as he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

"And every _man_ is gonna envy _me_," he returned, putting a hand on her face and drawing it to him so that he could kiss her lips. "You look beautiful," he said. "And that dress is perfect with those earrings—even more so than the pantsuit you wore on Wednesday night."

She was again sporting the earrings he'd given her for her "birthday" on Tuesday, and the lightweight, polyester sheath she was wearing was of a shade of blue that came as close to matching both the earrings and her eyes as was humanly possible. The dress—which came to just below her knees—had slender, three-quarter-length sleeves and a square neck. White, toeless shoes—with narrow, buckled straps across the back and low, ¾ inch heels—adorned her feet. Around her neck she wore a fine gold chain with a heart-shaped pendant on which was etched the letter **D**.

"Are you ready to go?" Cam asked.

"Almost," said Didi. "Just let me get my white church purse and my cell phone."

Didi stretched out her arm and used her Power to send for her purse, which was in her bedroom. The bag appeared in the blink of an eye, hanging by its strap from her wrist.

"**Didi's cell phone**," Cam ordered, holding out his hand in front of him with the palm up. The requested object materialized. "Here ya go, hun," he said, handing it to her.

"Thanks, love," Didi said, smiling. She turned the phone off and slipped it into her purse. "Now we can go." She opened the door and left the apartment ahead of Cam, closing and locking it behind him. "I keep a spare key to my apartment in this purse," she said, "so that I don't have to move it every week."

"Good idea," Cam said as he trod down the outside stairwell ahead of her, prepared to catch her if she tripped and fell. When he reached the ground below, he asked, "Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?"

"You tell me at least once every day," Didi replied. "If I told you how handsome you are every time the thought entered my mind, I'd be saying it constantly."

Cam opened the door of his rented SUV for Didi and helped her to climb inside. He then shut the door and went around to the driver's side, got in, fastened his seatbelt and started the engine. "Where to, hun?" he asked.

Didi gave him directions on how to get to the church house. As he drove, he told her about his parents' invitation to Sunday dinner. She smiled. "I'd love to spend time with your parents again, dinner or no. What time are they expecting us?"

"Around five," Cam replied. "That's early for them, but since I have to be at the airport by eight-thirty at the outside, they know we can't really do it any later."

As Didi had said, it didn't take long to get to the church. In fact, they arrived a good four minutes before the meeting was scheduled to begin, giving the reverend Mr. Prescott ample opportunity to effusively welcome the locally-famous Cameron Mitchell to his humble chapel; to express his pleasure that the Kansas-grown hero had become a national one as well, _and_ that he was taking an interest in Didina Steadman. "A lovelier and more humble young woman you'll never find anywhere," he opined.

"I couldn't agree with you more, Reverend," said Cam, smiling. The pastor then allowed the duo to take their seats and welcomed others who were arriving just in the nick of time.

After greeting the congregation at large, Reverend Prescott openly conveyed his delight at having Cameron Mitchell in their midst. At least he saved Cam from the discomfiture of having to stand up and be recognized, opting instead to indicate his position with an outstretched palm and saying, "He's the handsome man in the Air Force uniform who's sitting with Sister Didina Steadman today."

"_You were right, Dee: wearing the uniform spared me _**some**_ embarrassment," _Cam sent to her.

The topic of Rev. Prescott's sermon for the day was "Doing the Right Things for the Right Reasons." Much of what he said struck cords inside of Cam and Didi. They had both been wondering since they'd made the decision to come to this world whether they were doing the right thing for the right reasons. By the time the sermon was over, they were pretty much convinced that they were. None of what they had said or done had been for purely selfish reasons. Along with wanting to find a place that they could call home, they had wanted to spare the families and friends of the other Cam and Didi the agonizing pain of losing them. Now that they were here and had spent time with their loved ones, they felt even more that they had, indeed, done the right thing.

When the meeting ended, nearly everyone in the congregation gathered around the couple, the women asking questions about how, when and where they met, when they were planning to marry, how their respective parents felt about the two of them being engaged, etc. The men, on the other hand, asked Cam about football and the Air Force.

After some minutes of this kind of questioning, Rev. Prescott intervened and reminded the group that Didi had a standing engagement for Sunday brunch with her parents, and that it would be rude of them to make her late. They apologized profusely and moved out of the way to allow the handsome couple to leave the building.

"Wow!" said Cam as he started the engine of the SUV. "You were right! If I'd known it was going to be _that_ bad, though, I would've worn my tweed jacket, arrived just in the nick of time and snuck on to the back pew."

Didi laughed softly. "I'm sorry, love. I knew they'd make a fuss, but I didn't expect it to be quite that _big_ of one."

"It's not your fault," Cam pointed out. "You did warn me."

"Cam, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about . . . ."

"The tone of your voice tells me you've been putting it off for a reason. What is it, hun?"

"Those four friends of mine I went out to dinner with on Thursday night? They all want to meet you before you leave town. I promised them I'd talk to you about it. . . ."

Cam sighed. "We're not gonna have a lot of time, Dee. We're going from your folks' to my folks' to your place. . . . I don't know when we can squeeze them in."

"Let's just wing it, shall we?" said Didi. "If we end up having a free hour or two sometime this afternoon or early evening, I'll call them and have them come to my apartment and do a meet-and-greet before you leave for the airport. I'll kick them out when it's time to go."

"Sounds good to me. You know, it's been years since I've had this much fuss made over me."

"Enjoy it while you can. Since the Stargate is a secret, the only reason you're getting this attention is because this is Kansas and you were a football hero."

Cam sighed. "Yeah, I know. But at least I'll still have _you_ cheering for me even when I'm not in Kansas."

"That you will, love . . . always." She kissed him on the cheek.

They had arrived at her parents' house. Cam parked at the curb, behind what he guessed to be the vehicle belonging to Theresa and her family. After they had both gotten out of the SUV, Cam locked it securely, slid the keys into his pocket, and took Didi's hand.

"There you are!" said a golden-haired woman with a broad smile and a voice that was lower and huskier than Didi's. _This, _Cam mused, _has to be Theresa_. Her eyes, he noticed as they drew closer to the porch, were the same shade of blue as Melinda's. In fact, Theresa resembled her mother quite a bit, with only the huskiness of her voice and the shape of her ears resembling those of her father.

"Hi, Thé," said Didi. She had explained to Cam the night before that, because Theresa's name had an H in it, her parents had decided long ago to call her by the French word for "tea," since it had an H in it, too. Being pronounced "tay" rather than "tee" made it confusing to many people. However, already knowing how Didi had come by _her _name—and the fact that she was often called simply "Dee"—Cam good-naturedly accepted this second evidence of the mild eccentricity of Didi's parents.

"So, introduce us . . . _please_!" said Theresa, her blue eyes wide with excitement.

Didi smiled. She was well aware that her older sister had had nearly as big a crush on Cam as she herself had done, and Theresa was closer to Cam's age. At the time, however, Theresa had had a boyfriend who played football on her _own_ high school team. She could not, therefore, publicly acknowledge the crush she had on Cameron Mitchell, but she and Didi had drooled together over the pictures of him that appeared in the newspaper on a regular basis.

"Thé, I'd like you to meet Colonel Cameron Mitchell of the United States Air Force—my fiancé and soon-to-be neighbor in Colorado Springs—facts of which I'm certain Mom and Dad already informed you. Cam, this is my big sister, Theresa. She's almost as much of a fan of yours as Dad and I both are."

Cam smiled amiably and held out his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Theresa. Didi told me a little about you last night, since she knew we'd be meeting today. I understand your husband works for the city zoning commission?" He expressed it as a question just in case he got it wrong.

"Yes," sighed Theresa. "And it has to be about the _boringest_ job in the universe! _Please_ don't make me talk about that!"

"Just making polite conversation," said Cam.

"Do you think we could go inside now, Thé?" Didi asked.

"Oh . . . oh, yes, of course. I'm sorry. I've just never met a celebrity before!"

"I'm hardly a celebrity," said Cam modestly.

"In this house you are," Theresa replied. She moved out of the way and allowed Didi and Cam to enter. "Dad wants you to go to the rumpus room so he can show you his exercise equipment," she told the colonel. "Didi and I are supposed to help Mom set the table. Come on, little sister."

"Rumpus room's downstairs," Didi said as she headed in the direction of the kitchen. "Just follow the male voices and the smell of testosterone."

She heard Cam guffaw as they went their separate ways.

"Oh, Dina, thank goodness!" said Mrs. Steadman. "We were starting to get worried. Your father was afraid you and Cameron might have been in an accident or something."

Didi smiled indulgently. "Cam's an experienced Air Force pilot, Mom. He's more likely to get killed in aerial combat than on a Sunday morning drive."

"Don't be so sure," her mother replied, looking across at her daughter seriously. "People seldom die in the manner others expect them to." She turned around and picked up the pile of plates that was sitting on the countertop in front of her and handed it to Didi. "Put these on the table, would you, Dee?"

"Sure." Didi took the plates to the table and began to lay them out. While she was doing that, Theresa's twelve-year-old daughter, Maria—who'd been helping her grandmother ever since she'd arrived—followed Didi around with napkins and silverware.

"So, why _were_ you so late?" Melinda asked, as she set goblets above the knives her granddaughter was placing on the table.

"We were besieged by nearly everyone in the congregation after the service was over," said Didi. "The women all wanted to know about _us_, as a couple; most of the men asked Cam about his uniform and what he does in the Air Force. A few people wanted to talk football. Fortunately, Reverend Prescott intervened and got us out of there after a few minutes or we would've been even later than we were."

"I don't blame any of them one bit," said Theresa. "Cameron was always handsome, but in that Air Force uniform . . . mm-mm-mm. Delicious!"

"Don't let Jeff hear you say that!" Didi warned her sister as she set butter dishes at each end of the table.

"Jeff already knows I had a crush on the man," Theresa replied as she poured water into the goblets from a pitcher. "But I fell in love with and married _him—_not Cameron Mitchell—and I gave him two beautiful children.

"Anyway, Dad's absolutely _drooling_ at the prospect of having him for a son-in-law, and he wants you to be ecstatically happy. And . . . just so you know, I'm happy for you already."

"Thanks, Thé," said Didi.

"Well," said Mrs. Steadman, "everything's ready to go. Dina, run down to the rumpus room and fetch the men while Thé and I put the food on the table."

"Yes, Mom," said Didi. She traversed the living room quickly and then went down the wide but shallow stairs into the rumpus room, where she saw her father demonstrating the numerous ways in which his exercise machine could be used to tighten, tauten, strengthen and tone various muscle groups.

"Dad, guys . . . Mom sent me to get you. Brunch is ready."

Greg said, "Next time you come to visit, Cameron, wear something old and beat-up and I'll let you try it out."

"Will do. I'll make a point of it."

The three men and one fifteen-year-old boy headed up the stairs and toward the dining room. As they entered, Maria said, "Oh wow!" She was staring at Cam.

"He is handsome in that uniform, isn't he, dear?" said Melinda.

"I think he looks as handsome as the prince in _Cinderella_," Maria replied.

"No kidding!" said her brother, Gregory Jeffrey. "Maybe _I_ should join the Air Force, too."

"You could do worse, Geej," said Mr. Steadman to his grandson, who was also known as "G. J."

"Thanks," said Cam, "—both of you." He was smiling softly at the two siblings.

"Grandma, am I gonna hafta sit at the little kids' table forever?" asked G. J.

"Yes—until we get a bigger table and more chairs," Grandpa Steadman replied.

The "little kids' table" was a card table that was set up in the eastern corner of the dining room. It was close enough to the big table to make serving easy, but far enough away to keep the adult diners from tripping over the legs of either the table or the folding chairs that went with it.

Mr. Steadman sat at the head of the table again, with his wife at the opposite end. Theresa and her husband Jeff sat on the east side of the table, close to their children, so that they could monitor them and keep them from fighting. Cam and Didi were on the west side, with Didi directly across from her big sister.

Greg Steadman said grace, after which the picking and choosing of food began. The "breakfast" part of the "brunch" consisted of crepes and Belgian waffles, with various toppings (including berries) to choose from, and cinnamon toast. The "lunch" menu included the remains of the potato salad from last night's barbeque, a plate of deviled eggs, both white and whole wheat bread, a variety of cold cuts and cheeses, and various condiments and spreads for the sandwiches. Without standing on ceremony, everyone began reaching for what they wanted.

Melinda started the conversational ball rolling by telling the men why Cam and Didi were late in arriving.

"It seems you're a celebrity to other folks besides us, Cameron," said Theresa with a catty smile.

"Yeah, it does seem that way," Cam acknowledged, "though I really don't know why."

"He's so self-effacing," said Didi with a soft smile. "I love that about him."

"I know you ladies are going to be annoyed with me for doing this, but . . . tell me, Cameron," said Greg, "what do you think was the most important play you ever made during your football career?"

"Oh, man, that's hard!" said Cam. He thought about it for a few minutes, a look of concentration on his face as he reviewed several different plays in his mind, trying to choose the one he believed was most important. He decided it was a "quarterback sneak" he'd pulled when it was fourth and goal and his Air Force Academy team was down by six points during the last minute of the fourth quarter in a pivotal game against a conference rival. It was an all or nothing play.

He had faked a handoff of the ball to the biggest of the running backs, who had bent over with his arms clutched to his abdomen (as though he were carrying the ball), and had charged the defensive line. The linemen all went after the decoy while Cam ran around the outside of the mass of bodies—protected by his own front line—and scored the touchdown. The game was tied and the point after was good. Air Force won the game by only a single point, but they won it . . . and Cam was a hero.

"I wish I'd seen that one," said Greg wistfully, "but I believe I was at a seminar that weekend. I heard all about it when I got back, though."

"It was a great game," said Jeff. "I remember watching it and thinking, 'Cameron Mitchell's still got what it takes. He's got a good arm, a good head on his shoulders, and a pair of strong, fast legs.'"

"I appreciate that; thanks," Cam said. "But I wasn't always allowed to call the plays. I tend to be a bit . . . _reckless_ sometimes," he admitted. "In that game, though, since the clock was running out and we'd been stopped in our tracks with only a couple of feet to go—and since a field goal would've done us absolutely no good at all—running it in myself seemed like our best option. No one was expecting it, so it worked. It was a big win, even though it was only by one point. It put us on top of our conference."

"So," Theresa said, changing the subject, "are you and Didi planning to go house hunting after she moves to Colorado Springs?"

Cam shook his head. "Not right away. My lease expires at the end of the year, so Didi's going to move into my apartment with me after we're married—for a couple of months, anyway."

"What can you tell us about your job, Cameron?" Greg asked. "Your father told me that a lot of what you do at Cheyenne Mountain is classified—which I can understand since NORAD is located there. But isn't there _anything _you can tell us?"

"Not much, I'm afraid, Greg. I travel a lot to very exotic places and I fly new, experimental, and highly classified aircraft from time to time. I frequently go on covert ops missions, too."

"It sounds dangerous," said Melinda with concern.

"It can be, but the people I work with are the best in the world. They're gifted people—good at what they do. And my C.O.—General Landry—is a great man. He gives us some leeway, but he doesn't take crap from anybody—especially the bureaucrats. There's no place on Earth I'd rather work and no other people I'd rather work with."

"That's certainly high praise," commented Greg. "I wish I could say that about _my_ job."

"You're the one who chose to go into the retail sales business, Greg," his wife said.

"I know, I know. Being a store manager sounded so . . . impressive, important and interesting when I was young. Little did I know what a headache it was going to turn out to be. . . ."

Melinda changed the topic again by asking her grandchildren how school was going, now that it was finally in full swing. It was Maria's first year in junior high, and she had admitted to being daunted by it all when the family had come to brunch two weeks before. She was settling in nicely now, however, and had a crush on a boy in her math class.

"He is _so _cute and _so_ smart!" she said. "That doesn't happen a lot. The smart ones aren't usually all that cute, and the cute ones are usually . . . stuck-up. But Jake is . . . really, really nice."

"Good luck with that," said Cam, "but be careful. Sometimes a guy who seems really nice turns out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"That's what Mom said," Maria told him. "Anyway, I'm too young to date yet. Mom and Dad are making me wait 'til I'm in high school."

"At _least_," said Jeff, "and you're never going on a date _alone_ with a boy. I know what goes on in teenage boys' brains," he told his daughter, "because I _was_ one once. Until you become a dad and have a little girl of your own, you don't appreciate or understand why fathers are so protective of their daughters. You look back on the way you acted yourself, and it makes you wonder how you could not have seen that the girls you treated so . . . _cavalierly_ were some other men's daughters."

"I'm glad I didn't know you then, Jeff," said Theresa. "If I had, I probably would've knocked your block off for acting that way."

"I grew up, Thé," he told his wife. "By the time I married you, I was ready to settle down. I've never looked back and I've never had any regrets—about marrying you, I mean. I have _plenty_ of regrets about my past."

"Well," said Greg, "I'm glad you regret the mistakes you made in the past, Jeff. If you didn't, you'd be a sorry excuse for a man. I just hope you never give me cause to regret allowing you to marry my daughter."

"I won't, Dad, I promise," said Jeff sincerely. "I love Thé and I love the kids. I wouldn't change anything about my life if I could."

"I sure would," said Cam. "If I could change one thing about my life, I'd want to've met Didi a lot sooner."

Didi smiled at him softly and said, "Thank you, Cam."

"You're a good man, Cameron Mitchell," said Greg. "_I_ wish you could've met her sooner, too." Turning his attention to the entire group, he then said, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm full. What say we move this party to the front room and entertain our guest with some home movies?"

"Oh, Dad, please . . . don't!" Theresa and Didi both said, although not quite in unison.

"There's one thing I'd really like to see if you have it," said Cam, following Greg to the living room. Jeff, the ladies and the two children got up and went after them.

"What might that be?" Greg asked.

"Didi's performance in _South Pacific_ when she was in high school."

"She told you about that?" Melinda queried.

"Oh, yeah. I've been trying to picture it in my mind ever since."

"Well, picture it no longer, Cameron," said Greg. "I'll go get that tape right away."

"We don't have all day, Dad," Didi called out to her father as he went from the living room to the rumpus room. "Cam's parents want us to come to dinner at five."

"It's only a little after one," Greg called back, as he searched the rumpus room. "We have plenty of time. If we watch the entirety of _South Pacific_, it should end sometime between three and three-thirty. What time does your flight leave, Cameron?"

"Ten-thirty. I should be at the airport by eight-thirty at the latest, and I'll need to take Didi back to her apartment before I go. I'd like to spend a little bit of time alone with her at some point, too."

Greg returned to the living room, videotape in hand, nodded and said, "Understandable. After we finish watching the videotape of the play, you can spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with Didi and your parents." He slipped the tape into the VCR and said, "Now, let's get started."

Cam sat beside Didi on the loveseat and held her hand while she rested her head on his shoulder. He watched with mixed emotions as a younger version of the woman he loved sang and acted with her infamous ex. He cringed during the couple's first kissing scene—especially when he saw the way young Didi _looked_ at Tad before he kissed her.

At the point in the play where Didi sang "I'm in Love with a Wonderful Guy" Cam said to her telepathically, _"You lied._ _When you sang that song for me back on Planet Max, you said you performed it just like you did back in high school. Actually, you did it _**better **_when you sang it for me."_

"_You were trying to get me to confess my feelings for you," _she sent back. _"I wasn't ready to do that yet. Back in high school, I didn't really know what love was. I _**thought**_ I was in love with Tad . . . and I did _**love** _him, just not . . . the way I love you."_

Having received that message loud and clear in his brain, Cam wasn't nearly as upset as he might have been by the evidently loving gaze with which Didi graced Tad during the closing scene. Instead, he squeezed her hand tighter and said telepathically, _"I love you, Dee." _He then released her hand and began to applaud as the curtain came down and then went back up again for the final ovation.

"You were great, Didi," he said aloud. "You should've gone into show business."

She looked at him earnestly. "I thought about it when I was young. . . . Who doesn't? I think _most _people feel that they need some sort of vindication, and a lot of them believe that becoming rich and famous will give them that. But when I saw what being in show business did to people, I decided I didn't want any part of that dog-eat-dog world. Life is difficult enough without adding complications like fame, fortune and the paparazzi to the mix."

"That's certainly true." Cam then got to his feet and helped his fiancée to hers, saying to the assembled company as he did so, "I think we'll head over to Didi's apartment for a while. We have a few things we need to talk about before we go to the farm for dinner." He shook hands with all of the men—including Geej—and gave each of the women a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I hope to see you all again sometime before the wedding. Greg, I'll be seeing you the day Didi moves in. I'd persuaded General Landry to let me have the entire day off, but since Didi won't hit town before four in the afternoon, I may go ahead and go to work and then just take off an hour or two early so I can be there when she arrives."

"He really _does_ sound like a good man," Greg commented, "and an understanding one. He _must _be if he's willing to give you a day off to help someone he's never met move in down the hall from you—especially if he doesn't know yet that she's your fiancée."

Cam realized then that he shouldn't have mentioned the fact that the general had given him the day off to help Didi move in. The Steadmans didn't know that General Landry had already met Didi and had taken quite a liking to her—as everyone with any decency always seemed to. "He believes in helping people wherever and whenever the opportunity arises," Cam said. It was an honest answer, at least. He had no doubt that, even if his commanding officer _hadn't_ already met Didi, he would've given Cam the day off, anyway . . . as long as there wasn't something going on that required his particular skills.

The couple said their final goodbyes and then left. As Cam drove to Didi's apartment, he said, "So, have you made up your mind yet?"

"About what?" she asked.

"Whether or not you're going to keep the Power."

"How did you know I'd been debating the issue?"

"Jackson told me."

"He contacted _you_?"

"Yep. He told me all about the conversation he had with you. He wasn't sure you'd say anything to me, and he was concerned about your state of mind. I really did misjudge him. He cares about you a great deal, but he's certainly not in love with you. As far as I can tell, he just wants you to be happy."

"I know." She sighed. "No, love, I haven't made up my mind yet. As much as I'd like to spend an hour or two with you every evening, I'm afraid I might be too busy packing and staying after hours to finish training Lori to really spend any quality time with you. I just don't know."

"Then don't rush into making a decision. If you ultimately choose to relinquish the Power, we could talk to each other by phone, as you suggested last week."

Didi nodded. "Yes, we could. It's not a perfect solution, but we wouldn't be any worse off than any other couple that's trying to carry on a long distance relationship."

"And at least it'd only be for ten days," said Cam. "After that, once you're moved in, we'll have to do the best we can to rein in our horses whenever we're alone together."

"Yes, we will." They had reached Didi's apartment complex. Cam parked the SUV, and, after he had locked it, the couple headed up the stairs to Didi's apartment. Didi quickly unlocked her door and ushered Cam inside.

After the door was closed, Cam gathered her into his arms and kissed her passionately. "As much as I love your family," he said huskily into her ear afterward, "and as much as I hate to flirt with temptation, I seriously need some alone time with you."

"I love you, Colonel Mitchell," said Didi. She gazed into his eyes and ran her fingers through the hair behind his ear.

Cam smiled and said, "Woof." She smiled softly back at him. He was still her lap/watchdog.

She took him by the hand and led him to the sofa. They spent the next hour or so kissing, nuzzling, gazing into each other's eyes, and occasionally whispering words of love and affection.

"You know," said Didi after awhile, "I could've called my friends and had them over here . . . ."

"I told you I needed some time alone with you. I only have a few hours left."

"I'm all too well aware of that," Didi replied. She then sighed and said, "I'm going to miss you, Cam. I sincerely hope I _can_ find some time to teleport to you next week—even if just to be in your arms for a few minutes and get a good night kiss."

"Does that mean you've decided to keep the Power?"

Didi reddened slightly. "I think so. If there's any way at all that I can spend a little time with you over the next ten days, I want to. I think it's worth keeping the Power a little while longer—just in case."

"I couldn't agree more." He placed his lips on hers and kissed her once again. "Maybe," he said afterward, "when we come back here after dinner, you can call your friends and I can meet them then."

"If you're really willing. You don't have to, you know."

"They're your best friends, Dee. You've known them a long time. They deserve to meet the man you're going to marry, don't they?"

"Yes, they do."

"Then plan on calling them later. For now, though," he said, looking at his wristwatch, "it's time we left. We'll get there a little early, but it might be kind of nice if you helped Mom out a little bit. . . ."

Didi nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

Frank greeted the pair at the door—having seen them through the screen door since the inner door was open—and ushered them into the house. "So, how was brunch at the Steadmans'?" he asked, as he led them into the living room and motioned for them to sit down.

"Interesting," said Cam.

"I'll let you two talk," said Didi, "and go see if Wendy would like some help. That way, Cam can say whatever he wants to about my family without worrying about my feelings getting hurt."

"Dee—"

"It's okay, really," she said back over her shoulder. "I know they can be a bit much sometimes." She entered the kitchen and Cam could hear her greeting his mother.

"Tell me what happened, son. You've obviously got a few things on your mind," said Frank.

Cam first told his father about what had happened at church after the service was over, and then he went on to give a detailed account of his visit with the Steadmans.

"Theresa's family sounds like an interesting group," said Frank.

"Oh, they are."

"Do you think we could see that videotape of _South Pacific_ sometime? At least it would give us a chance to hear Didina sing. . . ."

"You could always ask, Dad," said Cam.

"Maybe now that you and Didi are engaged, we'll invite the whole family over for a big Kansas-farm-style dinner."

"I'm sure they'd love it," said Cam, "and it'd be an interesting experience for you and Mom."

"Maybe we could persuade Greg to bring the video that night. . . ."

"There ya go!—a perfect opportunity to get what you want."

"So, have you met the entire Steadman family, then?"

"No, I haven't yet had the opportunity to meet Didi's brother, Mike. But she tells me that he and Greg are going to help her move, so, I'll probably meet him then."

"If you boys are ready," said Wendy from the entrance to the dining area, "so's the food. Come and get it before it gets cold."

"So, what've you two ladies been talking about?" Frank asked as he took his seat at the head of the table. His wife was at the other end, while Cam and Didi sat across from each other on the two sides.

Wendy and Didi looked at one another in the cryptic way that women have, both of them smiling a Mona Lisa smile. "Just girl talk," said Wendy with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

"Uh-huh," said Frank dubiously.

"Before we dig in," said Cam, "I'd like to offer a blessing on the food—for Didi's sake."

"You don't have to stand on ceremony for me," Didi protested.

"Yes, Dee, I do," Cam replied. "You're our guest—and an honored one, at that. It's what you're accustomed to and what you deserve."

"Thank you, Cam," she said. He smiled. Then he bowed his head, closed his eyes and said almost the same things he'd heard her father say before, varying only slightly due to current circumstances.

Afterward, as each person grabbed the nearest bowl or platter of food and began to dish it out, Frank asked, "Are you two planning to get married here in Kansas?"

"Yes, we are," Cam replied, "right here in Auburn."

"Since I already had a big church wedding the first time around," said Didi "I'd like a small, intimate, family-only wedding this time. The reception will have to be huge, though, since my parents will want to include everyone who isn't invited to the wedding. They're going to want to show Cam off to everybody they know. It'll be a real feather in my dad's cap to have Cam as a son-in-law."

"And I want to show Didi off to everyone in Auburn," said Cam. "I've waited a long time to get married, and Didi is the prize package I've spent a lifetime looking for. I want everyone to know that."

"Despite the fact that you've known each other for little more than a week, it's obvious you've put a great deal of thought into this," said Frank.

"We've talked about it a bit," Cam agreed, "and since we both know this relationship is right, we're ready to commit ourselves to it heart and soul—forever."

"That beautiful ring you gave Didina last night is evidence of that," said Wendy, "and we're very happy for you both. We'll do everything we can to facilitate matters. It's going to be wonderful having Didina as a daughter-in-law."

"It certainly is," agreed Frank. "Make sure you treat her well, son."

"He always does," said Didi with a soft smile.

"That's good to hear," Frank said.

"So, how much family do you propose to invite to the wedding?" Wendy queried.

Cam shrugged. "Our immediate family members, of course; any grandparents who are still alive; our favorite aunts, uncles and cousins . . . no more than twenty-five to thirty people total. Is that good with you, Dee?"

Didi nodded. "I was thinking along those same lines, yes."

"The only problem with inviting 'favorite' relatives is that those who don't get invited will feel slighted and may not show up at all—even to the reception," Frank pointed out.

"That's true," said Cam. "I hadn't thought about that. It's just . . . I really don't wanna see Uncle Henry at the wedding: he always says the most inappropriate things at the worst times. . . . He'd probably speak up when the minister asked for objections, just to be funny."

"Why don't we just invite the immediate families, then?" suggested Wendy. "The grandparents we can allow. As long as no aunts, uncles or cousins are invited, no one will feel left out."

"I have an idea," said Didi. "If we have a small, intimate wedding here in Auburn (like we said), we could do something a little different at the reception: We could put on the invitations that at, say . . . eight o'clock . . . Cam and I will speak our own vows to each other in sight of the entire company. Those who don't get to attend the wedding will still be able to see and hear something meaningful."

"And if the reception were to start at seven and end at nine, the vows would be right in the middle," said Cam. "That way, those who come early won't have to stay the entire two hours if they don't want to, and those who _don't_ come early will know they have to be there by eight if they want to witness the exchanging of the vows."

"It sounds like a good idea to me," said Wendy. "I'll give Melinda a call tomorrow and discuss it with her. We'll need you to choose the invitations you like best before you move, Didina."

"Before we worry about invitations, don't you think we oughta decide where we're going to have it?" asked Frank. "Now, I know Greg and Melinda may have some ideas of their own, but . . . when push comes to shove, it's _you two_ who need to decide."

"Well, Dad," said Cam, "if it weren't for the fact that it's going be November first and probably a bit chilly, I'd ask to have it here, in the front yard. If the house were bigger, we could do it inside, but . . . the rooms are just too small."

"Unfortunately, that's true," said Wendy.

"Aren't the bride's parents supposed to arrange and pay for the wedding?" Frank asked.

"Yes, they are—and pay for it, I'm sure they will," said Didi. "But Cam and I already decided to have the wedding here in Auburn and the reception in Topeka, so I'm not going to let my parents change my mind about that. Since getting married here at the farm would probably be out of the question . . . is there a smallish church somewhere in town that we could use? If we're only going to invite grandparents and immediate family, that's all we'll need."

"Oh, yes," said Wendy. "There's a lovely little church a few miles from here where Cam was christened when he was a baby. I don't know who the minister is there now, but . . . you probably have one of your own that you'd like to have perform the ceremony. . . ."

"We'll take a ride over there one of these days soon and talk to the current pastor about using his church for the wedding . . . see if he'd mind loaning it out for a fair price," said Frank.

"I don't care who performs the ceremony," said Didi, "and I wouldn't feel right about displacing a minister from his own church. . . . Why don't we just ask the current pastor if he'd be willing to do it?"

"Are you sure about that, Dee? The Reverend Mr. Prescott seems very fond of you . . . but then, you seem to have that effect on people—_good _people, anyway."

"I'm sure," Didi replied.

"But—"

"Never argue with a woman when her minds made up, son," said Frank to Cam.

"We'll drop by the church next Sunday and talk to the pastor then," said Wendy. "By hook or by crook, we'll get that church house—and its minister—for your wedding on November first."

"I love you two," said Didi smiling.

"And we love you, too, dear," said Wendy. "You're exactly the kind of woman Cam needs in his life."

"Yes," Cam agreed, "she is."

"And _he's_ exactly what _I_ need," Didi returned. "I love him totally and completely—even after as short a time as we've known each other."

"Didi, you're going to have to take care of getting the marriage license since Cam's leaving tonight and probably won't be back until the week of the wedding itself," said Frank. "Under current law, I believe at least one of you has to go to the courthouse and make the application."

"Really? I don't remember much from when Tad and I got married, as far as what we needed to bring or what we needed to do to fulfill the requirements for the application . . . and we did it together. But, as you say, Cam's leaving tonight, so . . . if I'm _allowed_ to do it on behalf of both of us, I will."

"You might want to call ahead and find out exactly what the requirements are these days," Frank said. "It just needs to be done _before you leave Kansas_, so you won't have to come back and do it later."

"I'll try to take care of it on Monday," said Didi. "Now that I have Lori pretty well trained, I can probably take a long lunch break again and go to the courthouse then. I'll call on Monday morning before I leave for work to find out what I need. That way I can take everything to work with me . . . that is, if I _have_ everything I need. If not, I'll call you on Monday night, Cam, and tell you what to send to me."

"All right," said Cam. "If you need something, I'll fax it to you at your office or send it overnight delivery. Would that work for you?"

"Yes, it would, love. Thanks."

"When do you intend to tell the people you work with that you're engaged?" Wendy asked.

"Monday," Cam and Didi said together. "Jinx!" they called out, and laughed.

"Enough already!" said Frank.

Cam and Didi sobered up. "Sorry, Dad," said Cam.

"Now . . . if we're through talking about the wedding, how about we finish eating? The food's probably ice cold by now. . . ."

At six-thirty Cam and Didi left the farm. They were lighthearted and at peace despite the fact that Cam had to leave for the airport in less than two hours, at which time they would have to say their goodbyes. They held hands on the gearshift as Cam drove, smiling softly at each other from time to time.

As they neared her apartment complex, however, the reality of the situation set in and Didi's eyes began to fill with tears. "I'm going to miss you, Cam," she said wistfully.

Cam gazed at her lovingly as he parked the SUV and said, "I'm gonna miss you, too, Dee."

"I hope I'll have the time and energy to come and see you at night," Didi declared

"I hope so, too," Cam stated as he got out of the vehicle. He then walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for Didi. As she alit from the SUV, he continued, "But if you _are_ too busy getting things packed and staying after work to finish training Lori to have time to visit me, I'll understand."

"You always do," Didi said as they climbed up the stairs.

"Isn't that one of the things you love best about me?" Cam asked in a vaguely teasing manner as Didi unlocked her apartment door.

She nodded and said, "Yes, it is." She then entered the apartment, closed the door, put her purse on the wall shelf by the door, and took out her cell phone.

"Isn't it time you called your four friends? It's getting late and I don't have much time left."

Didi walked over to her sofa, plopped onto it and said, "That's what the cell phone is for. I want to be a good friend, but . . . I'd like to spend some more time alone with my fiancé."

Cam put a hand to her cheek, caressed it with his thumb, and said, "I love you, hun—more than anything in the multi-verse; you know that. But you made a promise to your friends. Don't renege, Dee. That's not who you are."

Didi sighed. "All right; I'll call them. But you'd better get ready for the ride of your life; 'cause if you thought _Thé _was something, wait until you meet my friends. . . ."

While Didi was making the four calls, Cam took a seat next to her on the sofa, waiting patiently for her to close her cell phone and set it on the coffee table. Once she did, he put his arms around her and kissed her. By the time the ladies arrived, Didi was a bit worse for the wear. Cam helped her to fix her hair and make-up before answering the door. Shannon, once again, had brought the entire group.

It didn't take long for Cam to discover that Didi had been right about her friends. They were an interesting bunch and absolutely loved Didi's engagement ring. They were thrilled for her. Didi allowed them to stay for forty-five minutes and then told them Cam had to leave for the airport soon—that she had only a few minutes to say goodbye . . . in private.

The ladies gave their respective farewells effusively, saying how much they were looking forward to the wedding reception. They all planned to go home and mark November first on their calendars.

After the four women had gone, Cam asked Didi, "How in the world did you end up with such a diverse group of friends?"

"When we first started hanging out together in grade school," said Didi, "we actually enjoyed doing a lot of the same things. As the years went by we developed different interests, but we still had a few things in common that we liked to do, so we continued hanging out with each other. It wasn't until we graduated from high school and followed five completely different paths that we changed into the people we are now.

"Shannon has changed the most, I think. She was always the ringleader, but . . . after having become a successful business woman, she had two failed marriages and is obviously unhappy, even though she pretends she's having a wonderful time. I wish I could find a way to help her, but . . . people are what they are; they make their own choices and have to live with the consequences. I still love her, though. I hate to see her so miserable."

"Yeah, I know how you feel. I have a few friends who've kind of . . . fallen by the wayside, too."

Cam's watch beeped right about then. He looked at Didi dejectedly and she sighed, saying, "Guess it's time for you to go, huh?"

"Afraid so," Cam replied.

"I need to take the Power from you first," she reminded him.

"That's right," he said. "I forgot."

She wrapped her arms around his middle, laid her head against his chest and said, "**Stop Cam's brain from producing the enzyme that gives him the Chak-tuk Power and strip him of the Power completely. Make it so**."

"I'd say 'thanks,' but it's not something I really wanted to have happen—even if it is necessary."

"A _lot _of what's going on in our lives right now is necessary but unwanted."

"That's certainly true." He sighed, got to his feet, pulled Didi to hers, wrapped his arms around her and said, "I'm glad you've decided not to relinquish the Power, Dee. I have a feeling you may need it before you move to Colorado Springs—and not just for coming to visit me at night. I think you're going to need it for something_ really_ important."

Didi looked up at him and shook her head. "I've been forbidden to use it to help out or interfere in any way."

"No, not in _any _way—just in _certain _ways. You can't be sure of what is and isn't forbidden until something arises and you actually ask."

"Do you have any idea of what it might be that you're feeling?"

Cam's brow furrowed. "Jackson's been doing some research about Janus recently . . . you know: the Ancient scientist who turned a puddle jumper into a time machine? I could be wrong, but my gut tells me that something's going to happen in regard to the particular research he's doing now that could get our favorite archaeologist into a whole heap o' trouble."

Didi looked pensive. "I hope not, but keep me informed if something _does_ happen and I'll pray about it when the time comes. If I'm allowed to help in any way, you know I will."

"Yeah, I do."

"Cam, if I _don't_ have the time to come and see you—"

"I told you: I'll understand. Just . . . call me at least, would ya? I need to hear your voice every night, anyway."

"Of course I will, love."

Cam sighed again as he gazed at her and said, "I really gotta go."

"I know. I love you, Cam."

"'Bye, Dee. I love you, too." He kissed her forehead, then turned and left her apartment without a backward glance. Didi sank back onto her sofa and contacted Daniel Jackson. It was time, once again, to share her news.


	37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37: ONE WEEK

The ensuing week went by quickly for both Cam and Didi, as they both had a lot to do.

Didi took care of the marriage license on Monday, as planned. She was training Lori until six-thirty each evening and doing her packing after dinner. Her father had decided to come over and help her with the inventory, hoping in that way to determine the size of van he would have to rent for the move.

On Monday evening he brought her a number of good-sized boxes and cartons from his store for her to use and a tape measure with which he took the measurements of all of her furniture and appliances. He then left it there to measure the boxes and cartons each evening as they were filled.

Didi teleported herself to Cam's apartment in Colorado Springs every night at ten o'clock. Her father was always gone by then, and she was tired from putting in a full day's work and then some. She spent an hour with Cam each visit and returned home with his scent permeating her hair.

On Wednesday evening her mother came with her father and showed her three different types of wedding announcements/invitations that she and Wendy had liked and asked her to choose between them. Didi requested that she be allowed a day or two to deliberate. Then, that night, she took them with her when she went to Cam's and they made their choice together—although it did take them a while to come to an agreement. Cam liked one that was bolder in look, with a heavy font; while Didi liked one that was lighter and had curlicues. As a result, they chose neither, going with one that was more middle-of-the-road. Already they were learning to compromise.

By Friday night nearly everything had been packed except for the few items Didi needed to continue using until she left on Wednesday morning of the ensuing week. Those things she would pack into a single carton, which she would place in her own car when the time came.

"You've got a lot of stuff," Greg said on Friday evening, after he'd written down and totaled the measurements of each and every box, carton and stand-alone item, "but not enough to fill a full-size rental van. I think the second-largest size ought to be big enough to hold everything."

Didi's cell phone rang; she answered it. "Hi, Cam. . . . What? . . . Wait a minute. . . . Slow down, love. . . . My dad's here; we've been taking inventory." She listened for awhile and then said, "All right, I will. Talk to you later."

"Is something wrong, Didi?" Greg asked.

"One of Cam's colleagues is in trouble and he's really worried about him."

"What kind of trouble?"

Didi sighed. "'Eyes only,' national-security kind of trouble," she replied. "He's M-I-A."

"Oh! Why did Cameron call _you_ if it's top secret and you're not allowed to know anything about what actually happened?"

"He wants me to pray for him—for Dr. Jackson."

"Oh, all right. So, what does this Dr. Jackson do?"

"He's a certified genius, Dad. He does a _lot_ of things. Cam can't really go into it."

Greg shook his head. "No, of course not. I understand." He paused and looked earnestly at his daughter; she seemed anxious and antsy. "I guess we're done here. I'll leave so you can do your praying for Dr. Jackson, whoever he is, and call Cameron back."

Didi nodded. "Okay, Dad. Thanks for everything. You've been a great help all week."

"You're welcome, hun." He slid the tape measure into his jacket pocket and headed for the door. Didi followed him. When they got there, he said, "I hope someday I'll have the opportunity to meet this Dr. Jackson."

"If he's found alive, I'm sure you will. Cam'll probably want to invite him to the reception. He's part of the team that Cam's worked with off and on for the past few years. They're a close-knit group and they watch each other's backs. This time, though, Dr. Jackson was apparently off on a mission of his own and got into trouble. A lot of people are worried about him."

"I hope they find him, then—alive and well." Greg gave his daughter a hug and then withdrew. "G'night, Dee. I'll see you at Sunday brunch."

After her father had gone, Didi asked to see where Daniel was and what he was doing. He was on an alien world with another man Didi didn't recognize. Cam had told her that Daniel had been abducted along with Dr. Rodney McKay from Atlantis. No one had any idea who had taken them, and they were only now being able to piece together the reasons why they _might_ have been taken.

"**Show me the aliens who abducted Daniel and Dr. McKay**," she commanded. She sighed as the image of an unknown creature wearing an exo-suit presented itself. "**Show me what they look like **_**inside**_** the suit**."

"Oh, my. . . . Asgard? That can't be!" She called Cam and told him. "It looks like Daniel and Dr. McKay have been abducted by a rogue faction of the Asgard. I haven't been able to ascertain why as yet, but—"

"Are you sure it was the Asgard, Dee?" asked Cam.

"Yes, Cam, I'm sure. Sam and I worked very closely with Thor to help her get to Jack O'Neill, remember? I know what the Asgard look like. But they're wearing these big, bulky exo-suits. I doubt if even Daniel and Dr. McKay know they're Asgard."

"Jackson's gonna be miffed when he finds out," Cam opined. "He's always had the highest regard for Thor and his ilk. If these guys really are a rogue faction—and since they left the Milky Way, set up shop in the Pegasus Galaxy and abducted Jackson and McKay, it's a good bet that they are—there's no telling what they might do to those guys if they don't get what they want from them, whatever it is."

"Do you think they'd kill them?" Didi asked in alarm.

"It is a possibility, but I certainly hope they wouldn't."

"Just keep me informed of any updates from Atlantis, Cam. If there's anything I can do to help that won't draw attention to me or my Power—and that won't be against the rules—I'll do it," Didi said.

"I'll call you if I'm kept apprised of any new developments. You could always watch everything go down, you know."

"I could, but I'm afraid I'd be tempted to intervene at some point, and that's not something I'd be allowed to do—I _know_ that. Unless Daniel's about to die and I'm given permission to prevent it, I won't do anything except heal him after he's returned from his ordeal—whenever that might be."

"Fast forward to the future, then," Cam suggested, "like you did with the demise of the Chak-tuk. We didn't wanna wait around to see what was gonna happen later, so you skipped ahead to the finish. You could do the same thing now and tell me what you see; at least then I'll know if he's gonna be okay."

"All right, love. I'll do it. I don't want Daniel to die. Even in this universe, I still consider him a friend and I'd like him to come to our wedding reception, along with the rest of SG-1."

"Yeah, so would I. Now go, so you can see what's gonna happen to Jackson."

"And Dr. McKay."

"Yeah," said Cam with a sigh, "I guess we'd better make sure McKay gets out alive, too."

"You don't like Dr. McKay?"

"He's egotistical as all get-out while being insecure at the same time. And he's very . . . annoying. He was infatuated with Sam for years. He even named a whale-like fish he discovered on the original Atlantis planet after her."

"Really? That's interesting."

"She's the only person he knows who's smarter than he is, and he only admits that grudgingly."

"I'll be interested in watching _both_ of them, then," said Didi with amusement. "I'll call you back when I find out something."

"All right, hun. Talk to you later."

Didi brought up a holographic projection of what was going to happen when Daniel discovered that his captors were rogue Asgard. He was, as Cam had predicted, "miffed." His disappointment with their behavior—coupled with irritation at the way they rationalized their motives—caused him to be more forthright than was probably wise, and he incurred the annoyance and disfavor of the head Asgard. He was, nonetheless, returned to the company of Dr. McKay, who—while Daniel was gone—had come up with an escape plan. After that, things got _really_ complicated.

Didi called Cam and told him what she had seen and what she had learned. "Apparently, Janus developed some kind of device that targeted the hyper-drive on Wraith ships, causing them to lose power and to be stranded wherever they happened to be in space," she said. "Daniel and Dr. McKay unwittingly activated a component of some kind that was necessary to make the device operational. The activation of the component alerted the Asgard to the locations of both it and Janus's device, so they took Daniel and Dr. McKay (along with the component) and forced them to activate the device because they wanted the Wraith wiped out.

"From what I was able to ascertain, Janus abandoned the project because it had the unfortunate side effect of causing massive amounts of energy to build up in the Stargates, which in turn caused them to overload and explode when activated. Only a few of the 'gates in the Pegasus galaxy were affected before the device was destroyed, but still . . . thousands of people died on the planets where those 'gates were located, and the one on Atlantis exploded, too. Colonel Sheppard was injured in the explosion, but his wounds were minor, so he insisted on leading the rescue mission."

"Sounds like something that hotshot would do," Cam said.

"He's a lot like you in that regard, Cam," Didi said. "If you were in a similar situation, you'd do exactly the same thing, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Cam admitted grudgingly, "I suppose I would. So, what happened to Jackson?"

"Daniel and Dr. McKay eventually escaped from confinement and shut down the machine, but Daniel suffered severe injuries in the process and was afraid he was going to die—again. But the _Daedalus_ came and beamed them up. Once they were off the planet, Mr. Woolsey—whoever he is—ordered the base of operations in which they'd been imprisoned to be destroyed, and the device along with it.

"Anyway, because of his injuries Daniel's going to have to remain in the infirmary for a few days until they can get a new 'gate installed in Atlantis. _Daedalus _took one from something called a 'gate bridge.'"

"They can't bring Jackson home on board _Daedalus_?" Cam queried.

"No, they can't. He needs to return to Earth as soon as possible, and it would take too long to get here by ship. Anyway, _Daedalus_ was too badly damaged to make the trip—mostly by some guy named Ronon."

"Ronon Dex?" said Cam. "Why would Ronon damage the _Daedalus_?"

"Because the Wraith had taken control of it and imprisoned the crew. He didn't know anything about Janus's device or what was happening to Daniel and Dr. McKay. It's complicated. I'm sure you'll be able to read the full report after it's filed and transmitted to the SGC—or I could show it to you . . . .

"Anyway, Daniel's gonna be in pretty bad shape and in a lot of pain. Dr. Keller's doing the best she can for him, but I expect General Landry will have him hospitalized when he comes home. I'd like to visit him then and help him to heal up a little bit faster and a little less painfully."

"So, because Jackson's actually going to survive, it's okay for you to do a little clandestine healing, huh?"

"Yes, it is. I'm just not allowed to save the life of someone who's supposed to die."

"You could go to Atlantis, then, and—"

"No, Cam; that I _won't_ do. He'll be on the mend by the time he's hospitalized here on Earth, and it won't seem all that strange if he heals faster than the doctors might at first anticipate. Things like that happen sometimes—especially when people are in familiar surroundings."

"Yeah, I guess that's true."

"So, what're you and the rest of the team doing while Daniel's away?"

"We're temporarily out of commission. Sam's working at Area 51 for a while. Teal'c's visiting his son and daughter-in-law and spending some time with the Jaffa. Vala went back to waiting tables at a diner she'd worked in for a while when she had amnesia: she liked the owner and didn't mind the work. I expect she'll quit and start spending time at Jackson's bedside once he comes back here. General Landry hasn't told her anything yet, and he probably won't 'til he knows he's gonna be okay. As for me . . . It looks like I might be spending some time honing my skills as a 302 pilot and going through the 'gate with other SG teams that—for one reason or another—are a man short."

"Lucky you," Didi said facetiously.

"Yeah," said Cam without enthusiasm, "lucky me."

"You won't get to be team leader, will you?"

"Only if the man they're short _is_ the team leader. Otherwise, I'm second chair. I don't think the general will put me on a team whose leader is of a lower rank than I am, though. It would be kind of . . . uncomfortable for a major to give orders to a full colonel." He sighed. "Well, thanks for the heads-up, Dee. I just wish I could tell General Landry and everybody else that Jackson's gonna be okay. But, since they'll find out eventually anyway, I guess it doesn't really matter."

"I'm glad I could put _your_ mind at ease, at least, and I'm glad Daniel's going to be coming back to Earth, so that I _can_ go to the hospital and heal him a little. Even though I've been in telepathic contact with _our_ Daniel, I still miss seeing his face. It'll be nice to have a chance to talk to him in person—even if he is a different Daniel."

"Believe me, he's not all _that_ different. All of the Daniel Jacksons I've met are pretty much the same." He sighed. "I'd better let you go. You probably have a ton of work to do."

"Not really. I've packed almost everything—except the essentials I use every day." She paused momentarily before saying, "You know, Cam, something just occurred to me . . . ."

"What's that, hun?"

"Today is the twenty-sixth."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "You're right, it is," Cam said at length, "—the exact same day that we left the decommissioned SGC and came to this universe. Little did we know what was going to be in store for us in the here and now."

"And, in connection with that, I've wondered something for the longest time . . . ."

"And what might that be?"

"You persuaded Colonel Ellis not to attack the Chak-tuk after we were beamed aboard the _Apollo_. If you hadn't been there to talk him down—if he had simply acted out of anger over what happened to the real Cam and Didi—would he have gone ahead and tried to nuke them?"

Cam blanched. "Oh, crud, I never even thought of that! Come to me, Dee, and let's take a look. We may've done more than keep our _parents_ from knowing they lost their son and their daughter."

"All right," she agreed. A moment later, she was there. Cam greeted her with a warm embrace and a passionate kiss. Then they sat down together on his sofa.

"It's a good thing it's Friday," she said. "I won't have to get up early in the morning."

"Yeah, me neither. Come on; let's do this. Let's see what happened the first time around, before we changed the timeline."

"We knew more about the Chak-tuk," said Didi, "—about their Power and their attitudes—than this SG-1 did, having spent more time with them. I don't know if, without you there, Sam or any of the others would've spoken up and told Colonel Ellis to leave well enough alone."

"Show me," Cam insisted.

Didi nodded mutely and made the command. She grimaced as she saw the decapitated corpse of the other Cameron Mitchell and the skewered body of her own double beamed onto the bridge of the _Apollo_. Teal'c volunteered to beam down to the planet to retrieve Colonel Mitchell's head. A contingent of Marines went with him to protect him.

Once Teal'c and the Marines returned to the ship with the head, Colonel Ellis gave the command to launch a nuke at the citadel. A group of Chak-tuk elders, aware of the launch, used their Power to send the nuke back to its berth and then detonated it, destroying the _Apollo_.

Didi was in tears when she cried, "**End it**!"

Cam wrapped his arms around her and kissed her tenderly. "It looks like we made the right decision, Dee. As difficult as it's been to live apart, we saved lives . . . lots of them. We kept other people besides our parents from having their hearts and lives broken by tragedy. All those people . . . all their families . . . and no one would ever know why."

"Don't let go, Cam. After seeing that, it's going to take a while before I feel secure again."

"All right," Cam said tenderly. "Just snuggle up against me, Dee."

She was vulnerable now—more than she had been in several days. Although they had prevented the tragedy they'd just witnessed, it was still a horrible thing to see, and Didi was a sensitive woman. It was too much for her to bear.

Cam held her in his arms and hummed soothingly. He couldn't sing worth a darn, but he could hum. As she listened, Didi realized that he was humming "Lean On Me." She smiled softly, closed her eyes and drifted away, secure in the arms of the man she loved.

When Didi wakened, it was after midnight according to the digital readout on the VCR. Cam was sound asleep, his head tilted back against the sofa, his mouth slightly open. She smiled at him, slid out of his limp embrace and got to her feet. She then used her Power to teleport him to his bed and undress him, as she had done the previous Thursday night back in Kansas. After making sure he was well covered, she leaned down, kissed his cheek and whispered, "G'night, Cam. I love you. Thank you for holding me." Then she teleported herself home.

Cam called her as soon as he woke up on Saturday morning, sounding sheepish. "You had to put me to bed again, didn't you?" he said. "I'm sorry, Dee."

"It's okay, Cam. It was a little after twelve when I woke up—after one o'clock here in Kansas—and I was in much better spirits by then. I didn't mind at all putting you to bed. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. I love you."

"I love you, too, Dee. So, are you working hard today?"

"Yes, I am. I'm doing the bulk of my laundry today and some of the cleaning that needs to be done if I'm going to get my deposit back. I have to finish the last of my packing and apartment cleaning on Monday and Tuesday since we're leaving at eight on Wednesday morning. I'll give the place one last quick sweep with the vacuum cleaner before Dad packs it in the truck on Tuesday night, but I can get _some_ of the cleaning done today, at least—areas of the apartment that I don't use much and that are currently vacant."

She then changed the subject. "How's Daniel doing? Any word yet?"

"Yeah, you were right. He's on the mend in Atlantis and will be coming home as soon as they get the new 'gate hooked up to the system."

"How'd they get a message through to the SGC without a 'gate?"

"You know, I'm not sure," said Cam. "Maybe some kind of . . . piggyback radio relay system."

"Whatever. . . .Anyway, I've gotta go. My dryer's beeping."

"Could you come see me again tonight?"

"No, Cam, I'm sorry; I can't. Tomorrow's Sunday and I need to prepare myself both spiritually and physically for Sabbath worship; it's very important to me. Because of the barbeque and everything last week, I didn't do that, and I had my mind more on you and your quibbling about your uniform than I did on the Lord and the meaning of the Sabbath."

Cam sighed. "You really are one of a kind, Didina Steadman. I miss you."

"I miss you, too, my love. Have a good day and don't drink too much beer."

Cam guffawed. "You found me out!"

"I guessed. I'm not there, I'm not planning to come tonight, and you're bored. Therefore, you're going to watch sports on TV and knock back a few beers while doing it."

"I'll try to stay sober, just in case you change your mind about dropping in later."

"I won't, but thanks for the thought. I love you. G'bye, Cam."

"Bye, Dee." Cam sighed. Nothing was as much fun without Didi . . . .

Didi had her final Sunday brunch with her parents the next day, during which she, Mike and their father solidified their plans for the move on Wednesday. After much discussion, it was decided that both Mike and Greg would take Tuesday thru Thursday off from work. (Greg would leave the store in the capable hands of his assistant manager, and Mike's band mates would have to muddle through rehearsals without him until he returned.) Greg would reserve a van in advance and pick it up as soon as the rental place opened on Tuesday morning; Melinda would go with him in order to drive their car home afterward.

Greg would call Mike when he was finished with the paperwork on the rental and would then pick him up at his home, after which Mike would call Didi on his cell phone and let her know they were coming. They would get all of her belongings loaded into the truck on Tuesday, with the exception of the few items she needed to take with her in her car. Then, after Didi completed the last little bit of packing and cleaning she needed to do, Greg would drive the van to the Steadmans' house, Didi would take Mike home, and she would spend Tuesday night in her old room at her parents' house.

It was then agreed upon that Didi would drive ahead of the men. As Greg had told Cam, he had never driven anything as big as a moving van on the Interstate before. It would, therefore, probably take him a while to get used to it. Didi would stop for lunch somewhere along the way, and when she reached her destination, she would call Mike on his cell phone and tell him where she was. He and their father would join her there. Even if she were to hit the road again before they finished eating, at least the two men would have a table to sit at when they arrived. After lunch the trip would be completed and Didi would contact Cam the moment she reached the outskirts of Colorado Springs.

The plan having been agreed upon by all concerned, the conversation then turned to, not surprisingly, the merits of Cameron Mitchell. Didi ate quietly and listened to her parents talk glowingly about the man she loved. She would be seeing him soon. She smiled.

"How was brunch with your family?" Cam asked when Didi appeared in his apartment later that day. (She had contacted him and told him she was coming so that he could be prepared to receive her.)

"Not bad," Didi replied to his question as she sat down beside him on the sofa. She had changed out of her "Sunday best" and into a pair of white cotton slacks and a short-sleeved, goldenrod pullover, with a matching scrunchy in her hair. But, not planning to go out of doors, she had left her feet bare.

She told Cam the plans that had been solidified between herself, her dad and her brother, and he nodded. "So, you're going to contact me—I'm assuming telepathically—the minute you reach the edge of town, huh? All right, then. If you're feeling insecure about finding your way to the Grenadier Arms on your own, let me know and I'll meet you somewhere."

"Oh, I'll definitely be insecure," Didi told him. "I have a lousy sense of direction. I'll _need_ you to lead me in. Maybe I'll just pull into a gas station, or something."

"That'd probably be the easiest way to go. And when I find you, the first thing I'm gonna do is drag you out of your car and kiss you passionately . . . and I won't care who's watching."

"Just hold that thought, love," Didi said with a soft smile. Then she turned sideways, putting her feet in Cam's lap. "Would you massage my feet for me please, Cam? They ache _so_ bad right now. . . ."

Cam smiled softly. "Be glad to, hun." His thumbs and fingers worked magic and she sighed with sheer contentment.

"Oh, that feels good!" she said. "I'm glad I came."

"Did you bring your cell phone, just in case?" Cam queried.

"Yes, I did. It's in my pants pocket. I doubt I'll get a call from anyone, though. My parents and I said pretty much everything we needed to this afternoon, and I'll have a chance to say goodbye to Mom on Wednesday morning before I leave."

"What about Thé?"

"She's invited me to dinner on Tuesday night: she wants one last chance to spend some time with me before I leave."

"Are you going to miss your nieces and nephews?"

Didi nodded and a mist of tears came to her eyes. "Yes," she said. "I love those kids more than I ever thought possible. I absolutely _adore_ being an aunt."

"Imagine how much more you're going to love being a mom," Cam said, gazing at her tenderly.

"I know," Didi said chokingly. "I can't believe I may actually get that chance—that blessing—of being a mother." She pulled her feet out of Cam's lap, turned around and cuddled up next to him, putting her head and her hand on his chest. "I have so much to be thankful for, Cam. It wasn't that long ago that I thought my life was meaningless, since I was no more than a clone, with no home to go to and no family or friends to call my own. But now, we're here together, able to stay together, to get married, to have the people from our memories that we love most, and . . . to actually try to have children."

Cam looked down at her. "We're going to do more than _try_, Dee. We _will_ have kids. I _know_ it."

She placed a hand on his cheek and said, "You're gonna be the best dad ever." She kissed his lips briefly and then laid her head back on his chest.

But Cam shook his head. "No, Dee. That privilege goes to my dad. I'll never be half as good a father as he's been."

Didi had tears in her eyes again. "I love your dad, Cam. He's a wonderful man—a _great_ man. But if my opinion means anything, you'll be as terrific a father as he is." When Cam opened his mouth to protest, she put a finger to his lips. "I won't accept any argument from you. I'm entitled to my opinion. You can disagree if you want to—that's fine. It's part of your self-deprecating nature to do so. But I still think . . . Scratch that . . . I _know_ that you're going to be the best dad _our _kids could possibly have."

"I love you, Dee," Cam mumbled past her finger.

Didi removed the finger and smiled softly. "I love you, too, Cam." She sighed. "This is what I'm most looking forward to after I move: cuddling up on the sofa with you, talking, making plans, going with the flow and letting our feelings out . . . And to think it all started back on Planet Max—all those hours we had together with nothing to do but talk. We learned how to do _more_ than just talk; we learned how to really _communicate_ with each other."

"That we did, hun; that we did." He kissed her sweetly, lingeringly. In the middle of the kiss, her stomach rumbled. His lips broke contact with hers and he sniggered. "You hungry, Dee?"

"Well, I didn't exactly have a big dinner tonight. I ate a lot at brunch and I wasn't all that hungry when I got home."

"How late did you stay at your folks' house?"

"'Til about four. When I got home, I just grabbed a granola bar and ate it while doing a little scripture study."

"And then you came here."

"Yep."

"I have some chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer. . . ."

Didi smiled broadly, showing her teeth. "Ice cream!" she said.

Cam laughed, took her hand and got to his feet, pulling her to hers as he said, "C'mon, hun. Let's get you some ice cream."

After the ice cream, they watched a movie—Didi's choice. She picked _Somewhere in Time_ with Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeve. She sent for it from her apartment—along with a Milky Way. The movie was a real tearjerker, but the premise, Cam thought, was a bit thin.

"It doesn't make sense!" he declared with annoyance. "Where did the pocket watch come from originally? It's a complete and total paradox! And the guy was an idiot! Starving himself to death so that he could be with her again? And all because he left a single, solitary coin in his pocket!"

"Cam," said Didi quietly after he was through ranting, "if you and I had been separated in time and you knew you couldn't get back to me again, what would you do?"

"I'd find a time and a place where we could be together—like Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves did in _The Lake House_."

"Oh! I _love_ that movie!—although it was unrealistic, too."

"People would say that about _our_ lives if they knew the truth," Cam pointed out to Didi. "And at least _The Lake House_ had a happy ending."

"Okay. From now on, I won't show you anything with a tragic ending . . . and the same goes for you. If we watch an action flick, it better not have all the good guys and innocent victims getting killed!"

"Deal," said Cam, holding out his hand. Didi shook it, smiled and chuckled softly.

She sighed. "I think I'd better head home. I'm feeling much too comfortable here with you like this . . . and that's dangerous."

Cam shook his head. "No, it's not, Dee; I haven't broken my promise to your dad yet, and I don't intend to. But I'm glad you came. It's been a great three and a half hours. Do you think you could come again tomorrow night?"

Didi nodded. "Yes—just like I did all last week. I'll come at ten, after I know my parents and everyone else will pretty much be in bed." At that moment her cell phone rang. She dug into her pocket, pulled it out and opened it. "Crap!" she whispered, holding her thumb over the mouthpiece. "It's Mom!"

Cam sighed. "Be careful what you say, Dee."

Didi removed her thumb, put the phone up to her ear and said groggily, "Hi, Mom."

"We got a call from Frank and Wendy. They were in Topeka having dinner with family and decided to drop by your apartment for a visit before heading home. They didn't think you'd mind. Where were you?"

"Oh, um, I was taking a nap. I had my bedroom door shut and I didn't hear anything. I'll call them and apologize."

"You'd better! The Mitchells have been very good to you. . . ."

Didi sighed. "You're right. I'll call them immediately. Thanks for letting me know."

"If they have anything . . . _pertinent_ to say, call me later and tell me what it was."

"I will, Mom. I'd better go. Bye!" Didi exhaled. "Crud!" she said, putting the phone away.

"What was that all about?" Cam asked.

"Your parents were apparently in Topeka having dinner with some relatives, and they dropped by to see me while they were in town. When I didn't come to the door, they called my parents—I guess to ask them if they had any idea where I might be. Mom wants me to call them right now and talk to them."

"Yeah, my parents often go visiting on Sundays. And they probably just wanted to see you one more time since they know you'll be leaving in a few days and will be pretty busy until you do. . . ."

Didi nodded. "I'll call them, then, and chat with them. If they really want to see me, I'll drive to the farm and spend some time with them."

"I wish I could go with you," Cam said sincerely.

Didi gave him a soft, sad smile. "I know you do. I wish you could, too." She got to her feet and put the DVD into its box, sent it back to her apartment, picked up the Milky Way from where she'd put it on the coffee table, bit into it, and sent it home, too. She then held out her hands and Cam took them, getting to his feet.

"I love you, Dee," Cam said. "Thanks for being here with me. Tell my folks I said 'hi.' They'll just ask if you spoke to me today. You can honestly answer 'yes' to that question." He released her left hand, put his right hand on her cheek and lowered his head to kiss her. "G'bye, angel," he said when the kiss had ended. "I'll see you tomorrow night." He released her and backed away.

"Bye, Cam. I love you." She put her fingers to her forehead, closed her eyes, and was gone.

The moment Didi returned to her own apartment, she got on her landline and called the Mitchell farm—a number she now knew by heart. Frank answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hi, Frank, it's Didi. Mom called and said you stopped by. I'm really sorry I didn't answer the door. I was sound asleep in my room and didn't hear a thing. I apologize. Was there something you and Wendy wanted to discuss with me?"

"Not really," said Frank. "We have some family in Topeka who invited us to Sunday dinner, and we thought we'd stop in and visit you before heading home. It wasn't a big deal. We were just worried when you didn't answer the door. I'm glad to know you're all right. Have you heard from Cam today?"

"Yes, I have. He told me that, if I talked to you at all today, I should tell you 'hi.'"

"I don't know why that boy can't pick up the phone and call his own parents once in a while. . . ."

Didi smiled to herself. "I'll castigate him for you if you'd like," she said. "He could use a little chastisement every now and then. . . ."

"He'd probably call us if you did," said Frank. "You're better at making him feel guilty without his getting annoyed about it than anyone I know."

"I think it has something to do with the fact that he loves me and he'll take anything from me—especially since I'm not generally ornery about it. If _I_ tell him he should call his parents more often, he'll admit that I'm right, stew about it for a while, and then make up his mind to call. If you're not going to bed anytime soon, I'll call him now and give him an earful."

"We'll be up for a couple more hours."

"Okay, then. Expect to hear from Cam sometime within the next hour or so—if I'm persuasive."

"Thank you, Didi. Wendy and I appreciate it. Take care and make sure you stop in and see us at least once more before you leave."

"How about sometime tomorrow afternoon or evening? I have a few loose ends to tie up during the first part of the day, but I'm free after that. I'm going to be kind of busy on Tuesday, what with helping Dad and Mike pack the van and having dinner with my sister Theresa and her family. (They want a chance to say goodbye. Since my brother Mike's family was at my parents' for Sunday brunch yesterday, I've already had the chance to say my goodbyes to them)."

"Come tomorrow afternoon and stay for dinner. I'll whip up a freezer of homemade ice cream and a gallon of homemade root beer and make you the best tasting root beer float you ever had!"

"Mm! Sounds yummy! I can hardly wait! I'll give you a call before I leave."

"Well, I'll start making the ice cream and root beer as soon as we hear from you. Depending on what time it is, they should be ready for consumption either before or after dinner."

"All right, then. Thank you for the invitation. Oh, I'm going to bring the marriage license with me and leave it with you guys. I don't see any sense in taking it to Colorado Springs with me, when the wedding's going to take place there, in Auburn."

"We'll put it in a safe place," said Frank. "You can count on it."

"I trust you," Didi said. "I'll let you go now and give Cam a call. Have a nice evening, Frank, and tell Wendy I said hello—and that I'm okay."

"I'll tell her. God bless you, Didi."

"You too. Bye." Didi sighed as she hung up the phone. She then auto-dialed Cam's number on her cell phone.

"Hey, Dee! What's up? What'd they want?"

She told him what she had learned and about the rest of her conversation with his father. Cam sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll call them."

"They miss you, Cam."

"Yeah, I know. But I think a lot of it has to do with you."

"How do you mean? You're their son and they've _always_ missed you when you're away."

"Yeah, but . . . not this much. As I said, I think a lot of it has to do with _you _being in my life. You've made life more interesting for all of us; given us more to talk about."

Didi blushed slightly. "Just call them, Cam. They deserve to hear from you at least once a week. They're your parents and they love you _so_ much. . . ."

"I know they do. And I should be a better son when it comes to keeping in touch."

"It's _my_ job to see that you _are_," said Didi. "Now _do it, Cam_!"

"All right! I'm calling, I'm calling. I'll see you tomorrow night, hun. Bye."

Didi sighed again as she closed her phone. She then put it on its charger, took her Milky Way to the refrigerator, popped some popcorn, poured herself a glass of lemonade and sat down to watch a holographic projection. It was one of her favorites. She called it _Cam and Didi vs. the Dinosaur_.


	38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38: THE BIG MOVE

Didi spent Monday morning washing the clothes she'd worn on Saturday and Sunday and doing some more cleaning. She finished a little before noon and ate the last microwaveable meal she had in the freezer for lunch.

After that, she had nothing left to do, so she called the Mitchells to see if they were ready for her to visit. Wendy answered the phone, saying that Frank was still outside, overseeing some of the work that the farmhands were doing, but she would be glad to see Didi and chat with her for a while.

When she arrived at the farm and parked in front of the long sidewalk that led to the house, Frank greeted her, took the marriage license from her and followed her up the narrow walk. "Cam called about half an hour after I spoke to you last night," Frank was saying as they walked. "He apologized and made excuses, as he often does when he's been remiss. But we do know he's busy with work and thinking about and missing you when he's _not_ working, so . . . we forgive him." They had reached the foot of the three cement steps that led up to a narrow stoop, and Wendy was holding the screen door open for them.

"Didi, it's wonderful to see you, dear!" she effused as Didi entered the house. Both women then moved aside to allow Frank to enter unhindered.

"Let's go on into the living room and talk," said Frank. "It's early yet, and the ice cream and root beer are both 'on the boil,' so to speak. We have some time."

After Frank carefully put the marriage license away in an old roll-top desk, the conversation centered around two topics: how much Didi had been able to keep in touch with Cam during the week; and how preparations for the move were going. She answered the first issue cautiously, stating only that she had spoken to Cam every night. Then she told them about the plans that she, her father, her brother and Cam had made for the move. "Cam's going to meet me at a gas station on the edge of town and show me how to get to the apartment building. I've never driven there on my own, and Colorado Springs is a big place. I have a horrible sense of direction, and I don't want to get lost; Cam doesn't want me to, either. Dad has a detailed map and he's really good at finding his way around, so he should be able to get there on his own. After they pull into the complex's parking lot, Cam will show them where to park the van."

Shortly after that conversation, Wendy decided that it was time to make dinner. Didi accompanied her to the kitchen and helped with the food preparation. "I want to learn as much as I can from you," she told her future mother-in-law. "I want to expand my horizons where cooking is concerned. I want to be able to fix dishes that Cam really likes and make them as close to the way you do as possible."

"Cam has never been fussy, Didina," Wendy said. "He'll eat practically anything."

"Yes, I know. He's told me that a few times. Still, I know he loves your cooking, and I'd like to at least try to do a few 'down-home, farm-style' meals for him every once in a while."

Wendy smiled. "Just pay attention, then, dear, and I'll show you all my little secrets. . . ."

Much of what Wendy showed Didi was impossible to memorize. Mrs. Mitchell was a member of the "a pinch of this and a dash of that" school of cooking. Most recipes would say "season to taste."

While the food was cooking, the two women set the table. The meal, once prepared, was as delicious as anything Didi had ever tasted.

And the conversation was all about her. Frank and Wendy asked to hear about her childhood, her upbringing, experiences that had left a lasting impression on her. By the time the meal had ended, they were even more certain than they had been before that Didi was the perfect woman for their son.

After the dishes were cleared away, Frank announced that the ice cream should be done by now, and Didi and Wendy followed him. Root beer floats were duly made and happily consumed. Didi was in ecstasy, never having consumed either homemade root beer or homemade ice cream before.

By the time the ice cold confections were eaten, Didi said she had to leave. She wanted to give Cam a call when she got home and spend some time talking with him—telling him about the wonderful time she'd had with them.

Her future in-laws hugged her and kissed her cheeks. Wendy had tears in her eyes and Frank was smiling softly. "Be sure to keep Cam on his toes," he said. "Don't let him get complacent about you or about us. He needs to remember how precious life is and how important family is. You're already a part of this family, Didi. The wedding's just going to be a formality."

Didi had tears in her eyes, too. "After Cam and I are married, I'm going to start calling you two 'Mom' and 'Dad'—unless my own parents are around at the same time. But if Cam and I are visiting you and my parents aren't here, you'll be 'Mom' and 'Dad' to both of us."

"That will be wonderful, dear," said Wendy. "We're looking forward to it."

"I'll walk you out," said Frank.

As Frank and Didi turned to go, Wendy retired to the kitchen once more for clean-up.

"Thanks again for the root beer float," Didi said to Frank as they strolled down the long sidewalk. "It really was the best I've ever had."

"You're entirely welcome."

As they neared her car, Didi said, "Did you know that you're Cam's personal hero? He admires you more than anyone in the world, and he says you're the best father there could ever be."

Frank had tears in his eyes. "He's told me those things a time or two, but . . . you know how it is: you think they're just saying what you want to hear—they don't really mean it. But if he told _you_ . . . I guess he _does_ mean it."

Didi nodded. "He does, believe me. He wants to be just like you—as a man, as a husband, and as a father. I don't think he could've chosen a better role model."

"Thank you, Didi."

She smiled softly. "I'd better go. Cam's been home from work for a while now; he'll be waiting to hear from me."

"All right," said Frank as she opened her car door. "Drive safely, now." Didi gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek and then got into the car.

When she arrived home, Didi sat down on her sofa with her cell phone and called Cam.

"Hi, hun," he said as he answered her call. "What have you been up to today?"

She told him. "So, everything's packed except for a few things in the kitchen and bathroom that I need to use tonight and tomorrow, what I'm wearing now, what I'll be wearing tomorrow and Wednesday, and two pair of pajamas."

"And you had dinner and root beer floats with my folks."

"Yep . . . and they asked me all about myself. I hated talking about me exclusively, but I guess they really wanted to get to know me better—how and why I became the person that I am. They think I'm the perfect woman for you."

"Of course they do—because you are."

"I told your dad that you want to be just like him; he had tears in his eyes. He loves you so much, Cam."

"I know," Cam said quietly, "and I love him, too."

"You should tell him that sometime."

"I will. Next time I'm in Auburn, I'll tell him."

"That'll probably be the night before the wedding."

"You do realize, don't you, hun, that that's Halloween?"

"_It is_? No, I didn't realize that! Should we change it?—maybe get married a week later, on the eighth? I'd hate to leave your apartment unattended on Halloween. . . ."

"Where would you live for a week, Dee? We're getting married on the first so that you can move in with me as soon as your lease is up. Anyway, I know from experience that we don't get a lot of trick-or-treaters in the apartment complex. Not many of the tenants have kids, and the ones that do usually take them out of the complex to go trick-or-treating. I don't think we need to worry about it."

"You're sure . . .?"

"Yes, hun, I'm sure."

"Okay, then."

"Oh, by the way, Compton's moving out of his apartment tomorrow, but he's kind of a lazy son of a gun, so if he doesn't do a good job cleaning the place, Mrs. Granger will probably have it shampooed and thoroughly cleaned for you. She knows you're a special friend of mine and she wants to make a good impression."

"That's very kind of her," Didi said in a colorless, matter-of-fact tone.

"What's up, Dee?" Cam asked. "You sound a little . . . _detached_ all of a sudden."

Didi sighed. "It's just so . . . depressing."

"What is?"

"Seeing all my stuff lying around, waiting to be hauled away. _Half my life_ is in these bags and boxes! I can't stand it!" She closed the cell phone and promptly teleported herself to Cam's apartment. "Hi!" she said with distressingly negative energy as she appeared in front of him.

"Hi," Cam said, stunned, closing his own phone. "That was rather . . . impulsive."

"I know," she said with a sigh, plopping down beside him on the sofa, "but I just couldn't take it anymore! As much as I'm looking forward to moving here and being with you, I've been living in that apartment for three years now, and it feels like a piece of me is being left behind."

"So, the reality of the situation has finally sunk in, huh? I know how that feels. Been there, done that. Just don't get too attached to either _your_ apartment here _or_ mine."

"I won't, since I won't be spending a lot of time in either one."

"Yeah, I'll only have two months left on my lease when we get married, so I think we should start looking for a house right away—especially since I don't wanna be moving over the holidays."

"Do you want to try to move into a house around the middle of December, then?" Didi asked.

Cam nodded. "Yeah, I think that'd be the best thing."

"We should try to find one with a basement," said Didi. "That way, we can put the best furniture in the living room and put the most worn out stuff in a family room, downstairs. And if we got a three-bedroom house, we could put your current bedroom furniture in a spare room in the basement, too, since we both want to use my king-sized bed in the master bedroom."

"And what will we put in the _other_ two bedrooms upstairs?" Cam queried.

"Baby furniture, of course."

"Dee, let's not count our chickens. Now, I'm pretty sure we'll be fortunate enough to have kids somewhere down the line. But, until you get pregnant, we may as well put my furniture in one of the upstairs bedrooms. When it's time to go crib shopping, we will. But we won't need to put baby furniture in two bedrooms at the same time, anyway.

"If we end up with two kids of the same sex—and those two are all we have—we can turn the third bedroom into a well-appointed guest room and move my old stuff downstairs, like you said. Otherwise, we'll have separate bedrooms for our son and our daughter—or multiples of either, if God decides to be generous."

"All right," Didi agreed, nodding. "That sounds like a good plan. So, did you tell the rest of the gang that we'd been seeing each other while you were in Kansas and that we're now engaged?"

"I never got a chance. As I told you: by the time I got back, they'd all gone off somewhere again. Let 'em remain in the dark for a while. If and when they finally do come home to roost, I'll ask them to have dinner with us. You can show them the engagement ring, and the stunned looks on their faces will be absolutely priceless!"

"Do you think they _will_ come back?" Didi asked with concern.

"I don't know. But if General Landry gets the word that none of them _want _to 'gate travel as a team anymore—and at this point it seems unlikely that they will—there won't be a lot I can do about it. They're individuals with lives outside of the SGC. They can make their own career choices."

"The others have all been at it a lot longer than you have. The novelty hasn't worn off for you yet, while they're probably all jaded and tired of the whole scene—especially now that there aren't really any major bad guys left out there to fight . . . with the exception of the Lucien Alliance. And from what you've told me about them, they're nothing compared to the Goa'uld, the replicators and the Ori."

"No, they're not. Other teams could handle them just as easily as SG-1 could. We'll just have to wait and see what the others decide."

He paused and then said, "The only reason we were put back together and sent to Planet Max as a team was because of the images the MALP sent back. The citadel stuck out like a sore thumb and looked like it was in good condition. General Landry figured it was evidence of the possible existence of an advanced civilization with superior technology. Jackson went to act as linguist, Carter to take a look at the technology, Teal'c as extra security, and Vala . . . well, there's no grounding Vala when she's determined to go. You know as well as I do that she'll follow Jackson anywhere."

"Yes, I do."

"The point is, we couldn't do anything with what we found. The venture was fruitless, and you and I—as far as the others are concerned—almost got killed. I'm afraid it was the last straw for them. I really don't think they'll allow themselves to be dragged back to traveling through the 'gate as a team again, and I have to respect their wishes. They are the very best at what they do—every one of them. But if they want to move on to other things, I'm not going to stand in their way—not this time."

"So, if they don't come back, will you choose another team?—or will you ask for a transfer to some other duty?"

"I've been at it long enough now to've had a chance to get to know a few more people on other teams—especially during the time that Carter was on Atlantis. If they won't come back, I'm planning to ask General Landry to let me handpick my own team—people I know I can get along with; people who have the necessary skills and who'll watch my back and each other's.

"SG-1 is supposed to be the vanguard—the best of the best—and that's the kind of team I want to put together . . . even if it means stealing someone from another team. I believe it's what SG-1 deserves to be; what it _needs_ to be. I hope General Landry will agree."

"What if he doesn't? What else could you do?"

"Ideally, I'd like to fly something small and maneuverable. I wouldn't mind being a 302 pilot until my reflexes start to diminish. But, being a full colonel and having the experience I have, they may put me in command of a ship. They're building more of them, you know."

"One like the _Apollo_ or the _Daedalus_, you mean?"

"Yep."

"Would you mind doing that?"

"Not if I could take _you_ with me. Of course, it would depend on the mission we were sent on. I might be able to sneak you aboard if it's not too dangerous."

Didi smiled. "I love you, Colonel Mitchell."

"And I love you, Ms. Steadman—soon to be Mrs. Mitchell again."

"That sounds _so_ good! I can hardly wait to be Didina Steadman-Mitchell again: I'm more in love with you now than I was the first time around." She reached up and pressed her lips to his.

The kissing that followed lasted about an hour. Then Didi decided it was time she headed home. "My parents may be trying to call me. If they have been, I don't know what I'll tell them."

"If they were trying to call you and couldn't get you on your land line, they'd probably call your cell phone. It hasn't rung yet, so—"

Ironically, it rang just at that moment. Cam guffawed and Didi answered it.

"Hi, Mom. . . . Oh, I just needed to get out of my apartment for a bit: sitting around looking at my life in bags and boxes is depressing. I'm heading home now. . . . Yes, everything's packed except what I'm taking in my car. . . . I love you, too. G'night, Mom." She closed the phone and sighed heavily.

"What's up?"

"Nothing. Mom was just calling to see how things are going—to make sure everything's packed up and ready to go since Dad and Mike will be coming over in the morning to start loading it all up." She sighed again. "I'd better get back."

Cam caressed her cheek and kissed her lips one last time. "I love you, Dee."

"I love you, too, Cam. Oh! I forgot to tell you: I gave our marriage license to your parents for safekeeping, since we're getting married in Auburn anyway."

"Good idea. I'm sure they'll keep it safe."

"Your dad put it in a roll-top desk; I watched him do it. So, if he forgets where it is, I can remind him."

"I doubt he'll forget. Dad has a mind like a steel trap."

"I'm sure he does," Didi said with a soft smile. She reached up, touched his cheek and said, "I'll see you on Wednesday." Then she closed her eyes and was gone.

The next morning, after getting dressed, Didi packed her dirty clothes from the day before and the pajamas she'd just taken off. She then stripped her bed and stuffed the bedding into a large garbage bag, along with the towels, mats and wash cloths from her bathroom, since she would be spending the night in her old room at her parents' house.

For breakfast she had the last of her orange juice and her last granola bar—which she had saved specially for today.

At eight-fifteen, Mike called to tell her that they were on their way. She still had a few minutes before they'd get there, so she began loading her belongings into her car.

When Greg and Mike arrived, they began packing and loading furniture, boxes and bags into the van. They stopped for brunch at eleven and all three of them went out to eat. When they returned, the men finished packing and loading, completing the process by late afternoon. Didi then finished her final cleaning and vacuuming and put the chemicals she had used into their designated cardboard box, while Greg loaded the vacuum cleaner into the back of the truck.

When they were finished with everything, the men headed down the stairs. Mike got into Didi's car, while Greg drove off home with the truck. Driving to the manager's office and parking nearby, Didi turned in her keys and said goodbye to the manager, who promised to send her the cleaning deposit after she had looked the apartment over. She knew Didi was a good housekeeper and was certain that she would get the full refund.

Didi dropped her brother off at home and then drove to Theresa's house. Her sister would have dinner on the stove, and soon it would be on the table . . . and it would, no doubt, be one of Didi's favorite meals. . . .

When Didi awakened at six-thirty the next morning, she found her mother sitting on the other bed in the room—the one that had been used by Thé when they were children. Mrs. Steadman seemed to have tears in her eyes, but she was smiling softly and her face was radiant.

"Mom?" Didi ventured. "Has something happened?" Didi knew that wasn't quite the right question to ask, but she wasn't sure what question she _should _ask, having no idea what was going on.

"Oh, Dina!" Melinda said, rising from Thé's bed and approaching her younger daughter, "You know I've been worried about the way you and Cameron became so close and got engaged so quickly. . . . It frightened me," she admitted. "So I've been praying about it for days, ranting and raving and venting my anxieties . . . in private, of course. I didn't want your father to know: he's been so _sure_ of everything himself ever since the night of your birthday dinner. . . .

"Anyway, last night I took a good, hard look at myself . . . and I didn't much like what I saw—what I had become. After severely chastising myself, I reminded myself that, every now and then, a relationship comes along that's perfect, right from the start.

"I realized at that point that all I _really_ needed was to know that yours was one of them. I finally reached the point where I was able to humble myself and to be more concerned with the _rightness_ of your relationship than I was about the _rapidity_ with which it developed. So I prayed with _tender pleading_ instead of being worried and anxious. God answered my prayer with the most amazing sense of peace that I've ever felt in my life. I know now that you and Cam will be all right—that your love for one another is strong and genuine, despite how short a time you've known each other. I'm no longer afraid for you—for your future. I'm ready to let you go now, Dina. I'll miss you, but I know you'll be fine. Cam loves you and he'll take good care of you. That's all that matters."

Didi was agog. Although her father had believed that his wife had fully accepted Didi's engagement to Cam, Didi had sensed that such was not entirely the case. Her mother had still had reservations, despite her fondness for Cam and all of their best efforts to reassure her. Finally able to speak, Didi got out of bed, looked earnestly at her mother and said, "I tried to tell you this was right, Mom. I'm glad the Lord confirmed it for you.

"There are only a handful of people in this world that I would trust completely," she continued. "You and Daddy, of course, are two of them; Cam is another. He'd do anything and everything to protect me—to keep me safe and secure—just as you and Dad would. Cam is my future; my life. After having had time to get to know him and to learn to love him, I don't think I could face the future without him. Life would be meaningless and empty without Cam."

"I felt the same way about your father," said Melinda. "It just took us a little longer."

"But you and Dad were still young when you met and started dating. Cam and I are both older and more experienced. We know a little something about life, love and relationships. We've both had to learn our lessons the hard way, but . . . at least now we have each other. There won't be any more broken hearts or failed relationships for either of us. This is forever, Mom. For as long as we both shall live."

Melinda nodded. "I know it is, Dina. I know it is." She hugged her daughter, then released her and said, "I'd better go so you can say your prayers and get dressed. Your father and your brother will be wondering what's keeping you. I'll take the blame—tell them I wanted some time alone with you to say a proper goodbye. It's the least I can do."

"Thanks, Mom. I love you—and I am going to miss you whether you believe that or not."

Melinda smiled. "I believe you, Dina. I have to: you're my baby." She placed a hand on Didi's cheek, then turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Before leaving town, Didi and her father and brother decided to stop at a Denny's restaurant that was near the highway and eat a hearty breakfast. When they had finished, Greg paid the check and they went on their way, with Didi in her car taking the lead.

Didi reached the outskirts of the city of Hays, Kansas by early afternoon. As far as she could tell, Hays was pretty close to the halfway point, and even the few hours of driving she had done thus far had tired her. Just off the Interstate, she spotted a gas station with a fast food place attached to it. After filling her car with gas, she went inside and had lunch, taking her time over the meal. It would be at least another four hours before she would get to eat again, and she wanted a short respite from the long drive.

While waiting for her food, Didi called Mike and told him where she was; then, while eating, she contacted Cam telepathically to tell him the same thing. When he had talked to Gen. Landry about coming to work in the morning since Didi wouldn't be arriving until late afternoon, his C.O. had told him not to bother—which meant that he had the entire day off, whether he wanted it or not. Thus Didi heard back from him—by cell phone—almost immediately.

"Hey, Cam!" she said enthusiastically as she answered his call. "What've you been up to today?"

"I spent some time helping Mrs. Granger do a once-over of your apartment," Cam told her, "then I paid Jackson a visit in the hospital. He's finally back from Atlantis. He said he'd love to see you if you really wanna visit him sometime this week after you get settled in. He's happy to hear we're engaged. . . . So, you're having lunch in Hays, huh? Wish I could be there with you."

"So do I. But we'll see each other in a few hours. Then I'll give you a great big kiss."

"Or several," said Cam. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Colonel." She sighed. "I'd better go. My food's getting cold. I'll see you in a while."

"All right. Drive carefully, hun. I love you."

"Love you, too. 'Bye, Cam."

It was after four-thirty when Didi reached the gas station at the edge of Colorado Springs that she and Cam had chosen as their meeting place. She parked her car and gave Cam a call, telling him she was there. "Sit tight, hun," he told her. "I'll be right there and guide you in."

While she waited, she went inside the mini-mart and bought a soft pretzel with cheese dip and a fountain drink to tide her over 'til dinner. She was just finishing up when Cam pulled in next to her.

After parking his SUV—which looked a great deal like the one he had rented in Topeka—he got out, walked over to her car, leaned down and said, "Hi!" through her open window. She noticed that he was wearing an Air Force Academy T-shirt, along with a particularly worn out and holey pair of jeans. "Why are you eating?" he asked. "Don't you remember that your dad wanted us all to go get fast food after he and your brother get here?"

"I haven't eaten since lunch in Hays," Didi said. "I was hungry. I expect Dad and Mike will understand. We can all still go eat together. A soft pretzel isn't all that filling."

"You're right; you're right." He gazed at her lovingly and opened her car door. "Here," he said, taking the wrappers and the empty drink cup from her, "I'll throw these away for you. In the meantime, I want you to get out of that car and wait for me. I promised you something, and I intend to keep that promise."

Didi smiled softly as he walked away, getting out of her car and closing the door. When Cam returned to her side, he said, "Now _that's_ where I want you." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately. A number of people wolf-whistled; others whooped and hollered. When the kiss ended, he touched his forehead to hers, as was his wont, and said, "Welcome to Colorado Springs, Dee. I love you." He then kissed her again. Applause ensued from the interested onlookers. The couple barely heard shouts of "All right!" and "Way to go!" They were too caught up in their own private moment of elation.

"I love you, too, Cam," said Didi. "I'm so glad to finally be here with you—permanently."

"I'm glad you're here, too. Now, let's get going. I need to get you to the apartment complex before Mike and your dad arrive." He opened her car door for her and said, "Hop in and follow me."

"Yes, love," Didi replied, getting into her car.

Cam shut the door and leaned on it, talking to Didi through the open window again. "I'll try not to go through any lights that _you_ won't have time to get through, and I'll keep an eye on you in my rearview mirror, just in case I do screw up; that way I can pull over and wait for you to get through the light."

Didi nodded. "All right," she said. Then she closed her window, fastened her seatbelt and started the car. She waited while Cam backed out and then fell into line behind him.

It took several minutes to get to the Grenadier Arms apartment complex.

"_Oh, this is _**really **_nice!" _she sent to Cam telepathically as she drove through the gated entrance. The gate was currently open and would remain so until seven p.m., after which it would be locked for the night, and only residents with key cards would be able to get in.

Didi followed Cam to the parking area in the vicinity of the complex where both of their apartments were located. The parking spaces were numbered for their respective apartments. Two- and three- bedroom apartments seemed to have two parking spaces assigned to them. Didi's parking space was a few stalls away from Cam's, so she had to drive a bit farther than he did.

Cam locked up his SUV and walked to where Didi had parked. "Grab your purse," he said to her as she got out of her car. "I have a couple of things you're gonna need to put in it."

As she alit from the sedan, he said, "This is your key card for the gate. You have to use it to get in anytime the gate's locked." He handed it to her. She shifted things around in her wallet to make room for it, and to make absolutely certain that it wasn't back-to-back with any other cards that had magnetic strips, so that they wouldn't adversely affect each other. When she had finished doing that and had put her wallet away, he held up a small metal ring with three keys on it. "These are your apartment and mailbox keys; I think you can tell which ones are which." She took the ring and stashed it in her purse. "I got them all from Mrs. Granger this morning after I finished helping her with the once-over. I told her you were arriving today and that I'd be helping you move in, so she decided to save you a trip to the office by letting me give them to you myself."

"It says a lot that she trusts you that much," said Didi with a soft smile.

"Yeah, I guess it does. . . . Well," Cam said, rubbing his hands together, "let's get to it."

It didn't take them long to unload the few items that Didi had brought in her car. As they worked, Didi told Cam about the conversation she'd had with her mother that morning.

His eyebrows went up in surprise. "Wow!" he said. "That's amazing. I kinda _thought_ she still had some issues—although not with me personally. I could tell she liked me well enough. But she really did think we needed to wait a while to be sure that our relationship is right. I'm glad she prayed about it."

"So am I," said Didi. "Everything's coming together for us now, isn't it?"

He looked thoughtful. "You told me weeks ago, back on Planet Max, that God was on our side. Now I know for sure that you were right. Even after all this time, He's still there, watching over us and helping us along."

"The other clones have all settled nicely into their respective lives," said Didi. "Granted, Vala, Teal'c and Daniel had to go back in time a few years to get theirs in line, but all four of them have what they wanted. We're the only ones who've been struggling to make this new life work for us."

"Mostly 'cause we insisted on staying together . . . _and_ because we're the only ones who have close friends and family ties to worry about—which has been our greatest concern all along. So it's good to see everything falling into place the way it has." He shook his head. "There's no way this could've happened without God's help. He must've softened their hearts—all of them. It's natural that they'd feel our relationship has developed way too fast. But somehow, one by one, they've all accepted our engagement and are downright happy about it. That's nothing short of a miracle."

"I know," Didi replied, nodding, "but it is what I've been praying for. God knows how much you and I love each other and how much we need each other, especially considering what we are. Being able to marry and to live together again as husband and wife means more to us than anything else in the world. He knows that, so He's helped things along. We should thank Him when we say our prayers tonight."

"I already have, Dee, and I intend to continue thanking Him for the rest of my life. Now, shall we head back down and wait for Greg and Mike to arrive?"

"Let's." Didi was locking her door just as Mike called her on his cell phone to let her know they were approaching the Grenadier Arms complex. By the time she and Cam got back outside, her father and brother were pulling into the parking lot in the rented moving van.

Cam stepped out and directed Greg as to where he should park, greeting the Steadmans warmly as they exited the cab of their vehicle. "Hey, Greg!" he said, extending a hand to his soon-to-be father-in-law. "I'm glad you made it in one piece—and in good time, too." Didi had remained on the lawn, watching. Mike walked around the front of the cab and joined his sister on the edge of the lawn. Cam strolled over and introduced himself to him.

"I know who you are," said Mike. "You're all everyone in the family talks about anymore: Cameron Mitchell this, Cameron Mitchell that . . . how amazing Cameron Mitchell is and how much in love he and Didi seem to be. . . . Personally, I don't see what the big deal is."

"Mike," said Didi with characteristic patience, "I think they're just all really glad that I'm happy. And they're attributing that happiness—entirely correctly, I might add—to Cam."

"Does he _really_ make you happy, Dee?" Mike queried, looking at Cam askance. "After all, you haven't known him all that long. . . ."

"Yes, Mike, he makes me _very_ happy," Didi replied, taking Cam's arm. "It's true that we've only known each other for a short time, but . . . this just feels right, Mike—totally and completely right."

"I just don't wanna see you get hurt again."

"I knew Tad for _seven years_ before we got married," Didi said to her brother, "but that didn't stop _him_ from hurting me, did it? Everything about Cam is real: what you see is pretty much what you get—and that's _not_ just the remnants of my twelve-year-old self's crush on him talking. If you'd just watch the way he treats me—how tender and gentle he is with me—you wouldn't worry so much."

"When I first met Cam I warned him against hurting Didi," said Greg. "He put my mind at ease then and I haven't had any reason to question his character or his motives since. If _I'm_ not worried, son, _you_ certainly shouldn't be. Cam and Didi _are_ going to be married . . . and with my and your mother's blessing."

"I know," said Mike to his father, shaking his head, "and I still can't believe it. That ostentatious ring he gave her doesn't prove a thing—except maybe that he's well off and likes to spend money extravagantly."

"No," said Cam, "I'm not well off, and I don't like to spend money extravagantly. I've just lived alone for a long time and I'm very thrifty—and I happen to love your sister very much. She deserves the best, don't you think?"

"Of course she does! But who's to say that that's you?"

"_I_ am, Mike," Didi replied. "Cam is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I understand that, because I'm the kid sister in this family—and because of the divorce—everyone thinks they have to protect me from making another mistake. But I'm not a high school kid anymore. I know what real love is and what it should be. Everything I ever imagined and wanted for myself when I was young Cam has brought into my life. What more could I ask? What more could _you_ ask? I love him, Mike, and he loves me. That's the way it is. _Cam will never hurt me_."

"I won't, Mike, I promise you—just like I promised your dad . . . and _my_ dad. They both want to protect Didi," Cam said, smiling wanly, "and I don't blame them. Just so you know: I intend to make it my life's mission to protect her and to do everything in my power to keep her happy."

"Son," said Greg, "if your concerns have been sufficiently addressed, may we please go to dinner now?"

"Yeah," Mike said, nodding, "I suppose we should. I am pretty hungry. . . ."

"Are you driving, Cameron?" asked Greg, as he locked the doors to the truck's cab.

"Yes, I am," replied Cam. "We'll take my SUV." As he opened the front passenger door for Didi—and as her father and brother climbed into opposite sides of the middle seat—he said to the group, "Until recently, I had a jet-black Mustang. Since Dee and I are getting married, I decided to trade it in on something more practical. I don't need to show off anymore."

Didi smiled. "I wish I could've at least _seen_ your Mustang before you traded it in. . . ."

"Sorry, hun," said Cam, "but, practically speaking, this was the best move. There's no way I'd try to take all four of us out to eat in that cramped little car."

"So, where are we going?" Greg queried as Cam climbed in behind the wheel and shut his door.

"Since you'd already decided on fast food so that we can get to work on the unloading sooner, it's just a matter of preference: burgers, pizza, chicken, tacos, hot dogs . . . what do you guys want?"

Wendy's was the chosen destination, and Didi conversed with her brother across the back of her seat while Cam drove. "Mike," she said, "I wrote a song for Cam after we'd known each other for only a couple of days. As you know, I only write lyrics. Even though I know how the melody _should_ go, I don't have the patience to put the notes down on music paper the way _you_ do. Would you help me compose an arrangement for it and then help me to perform it at the end of the evening when our wedding reception is winding down, before the family disperses and heads for home?"

"I guess so. What's it called?" Mike queried.

"I haven't really thought of a title yet. Any ideas, Cam?"

"Well, since the primary line in the chorus is 'I think I'm falling in love with the thought of loving you,' I guess that would make a good title but . . . it is a bit long. . . ."

"Why don't we just call it 'Didi's Declaration'?" Mike asked.

"Hey, I like that!" said Cam as he pulled into the Wendy's parking lot and found a place to park. "'Didi's Declaration.' Has a nice ring to it."

"Yes, it does," Greg said, "but since we've arrived at our destination, let's go eat!"

As a means of apologizing for his earlier behavior, Mike volunteered in advance to pay for the meal. Cam accepted and Greg didn't protest.

There were multiple options available to them at Wendy's, so everyone ordered what appealed to them most, with both Cam and Greg ordering "The Baconator," which didn't surprise Didi one bit. Her brother ordered a spicy chicken sandwich and a baked potato. Didi herself ordered a junior cheeseburger and nibbled on Cam's and her father's fries. Before they began eating Greg and Mike called their wives to assure them of their safe arrival.

After dinner, the unloading of the van began. They started with items that had been stashed into the back of the truck, behind the larger furniture and appliances: things such as lamps, stereos, VHS/DVD player/recorders and other electronic devices, as well as some small kitchen appliances. Next came small boxes filled with carefully wrapped breakables, followed by medium-sized ones that held cleaning products and assorted non-breakable odds and ends. There were also large trash bags filled with quilts, comforters, bedspreads and blankets.

The larger boxes—containing dishes, pots and pans, linens, towels, bath sets and bath accessories, books, videotapes, DVDs, and an extensive music collection—came next, followed by the smaller pieces of furniture, such as end tables, nightstands and an ottoman.

It only took two hours to unload—a lot less time than it had taken to pack it all _into_ the truck, which had required organizing and making room for everything. And, of course, there were _three_ men to do the work instead of two.

Didi, meanwhile, had been busy organizing her bedroom. After making up her bed, she put away the clothes she had brought in her car to wear in the morning, decorated her furniture with jewelry chests, photos and various other knickknacks, and filled a pair of maple bookcases with her favorite hardbound books of both classic and modern literature, which she often read in bed at night.

Once her bedroom was put together properly, she had started on the bathroom. It was after eight o'clock when Cam and her male family members had finished unloading the van. They were, quite naturally, tired and sweaty.

Cam stood in the bathroom doorway and said, "Dee, are you about done in here? I'm taking Mike and Greg to my place for a cold drink. You're welcome to join us, if you'd like."

"Why don't you go ahead and take them," said Didi, looking up from her work. "I still have a few things I want to put away here in the bathroom. It won't take long."

"Listen, hun," Cam said, "I know you're anxious to get settled in—and I don't blame you for wanting to get your bedroom and the bathroom organized first—but . . . General Landry didn't just give me _today_ off. I've got the rest of the week, so I can help you with your unpacking and stuff for the next couple of days."

Looking up from her work, Didi said, "After I get the essentials put away in here, I'll be done for the night. You can help me with everything else tomorrow. But I wouldn't be able to sleep well tonight if my room was in disarray, or if I couldn't at least find my toothbrush, toothpaste, comb and hairbrush. I have to be able to look around me and feel at home. That's why I had you guys put everything pretty much in the same positions they were in back at my old apartment. I need that security of familiarity—at least until I move in with you."

Cam nodded, smiling softly. "I understand, hun, but you should spend some time with your father and your brother while they're here."

"I fully intend to. Like I said, I only need a few minutes."

"All right. I'll get the guys a drink and then we'll come back here. After you're done, why don't we go out for some ice cream or something?"

"I think you three should get cleaned up a bit before we go anywhere, don't you?" Didi asked pointedly.

"Uh . . . yeah, I guess we should; we are a bit ripe. I'll take Greg and Mike back to my place for a shower and a change of clothes. Then we'll go get something cold, refreshing and non-alcoholic. And if there's no regular ice cream parlor open by the time we're ready to go, we could always just grab a sundae or a shake at McDonald's or something. . . ."

"Yeah, we could. So . . . get going! It's already after eight o'clock! I'll still be here when you get back."

"I love you, Dee."

"Love you, too, Cam. See you in a while."


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39: LOVE AND UNDERSTANDING

The men returned forty-five minutes later, fresh and clean, both body and clothes.

"Are you ready yet, Dee?" Cam asked as he strode through her living room and back to where he saw the bathroom light on.

"I was just drying my hair," she replied, as she stepped into the hallway, rubbing the ends of her hair with a towel. "Since it took you guys a while, I put a few more things away here in the bathroom and took a quick shower."

"Good! The guys and I _all_ got cleaned up. I even managed to find shirts they could change into, since the only clean shirts they brought with them are ones they're planning to wear on the drive home tomorrow."

"That was rather short-sighted of them," commented Didi.

"You don't have to rub it in!" her father said from farther down the hallway. "I didn't think about the possibility that we'd be going out to grab a bite to eat after all that hard work."

"Well, we don't_ have_ to go. . . ." said Didi, sliding a scrunchy into her freshly-combed, still-damp hair.

The men all grumbled and protested—the general consensus being that, yes, they did.

When Didi entered the living room—clad in clean jeans and a pale sea-blue T-shirt with a red pagoda on it—she saw that her father was wearing a black T-shirt that had a picture of a wolf baying at a full moon on the front of it. The shirt Mike had on was a shade of chocolate brown and had a picture of Darth Vader on the front, with a caption beneath him that read, "The Force is strong . . .", and on the back of the shirt was a picture of Luke and Leia with a caption that said, " . . . in our family."

Cam himself was wearing his _**FLYBOYS DO IT BETTER**_ T-shirt, which raised a snigger from Didi when she saw it. Knowing that her father and brother were not aware of their history with that particular shirt, she asked Cam basically the same question that she had asked him back on Planet Max: "And just what, exactly, might 'it' be?"

Cam, however, did _not_ give the same answer he'd given then. They knew each other better now, and he wasn't embarrassed to show it. He walked over and stood toe-to-toe with her, gazed into her eyes and said, "You'll find that out on our wedding night!"

"Ca-am . . . !" Didi protested—but only for show because her father and brother were present. Then she giggled. "Come on, Flyboy," she said, "let's go."

They went to an open-all-night diner that Cam occasionally patronized. Having had only burgers for dinner (or in Mike's case a chicken sandwich)—and having worked hard for two long hours—the men were hungry again and ordered good-sized meals, despite the lateness of the hour. Didi had a hot fudge sundae and again nibbled at the plethora of fries available on each plate. No one complained. Greg insisted on paying the check this time, and plans were made to go to IHOP at eight the next morning. Cam then returned the group to the Grenadier Arms. It was nearing eleven o'clock and everyone was tired.

"So you don't have to drive that van to a motel, why don't you crash at my place?" said Cam. "I have a sleeper sofa and an air mattress and a sleeping bag. . . . You can take your pick."

"I have a sleeper sofa and an air mattress, too," said Didi. "So Dad, why don't you stay at Cam's and Mike can stay with me. It'll give us a chance to work on my song a little bit and . . . talk."

"It's all right with me if it's all right with them," said Cam.

"I'm game," said Greg. "I'd like a chance to get to know my future son-in-law a little bit better, anyway." He sighed. "But, at the risk of seeming like I'm looking a gift horse in the mouth, I need to ask . . . Is there any way I could sleep in your bed, Cameron? I'm not as young as I used to be, and I need a good, firm mattress behind my back."

"Not a problem, Greg," said Cam graciously. "I wouldn't want you to have to drive all the way home to Topeka with a sore back."

"I could drive. . . ." suggested Mike.

"It's not entirely the driving," said his father. "Even when I'm just a passenger, sitting for hours in the car like that can be extremely painful if I don't get a decent night's sleep on a good, firm mattress."

And thus it was arranged: Greg would spend the night in Cam's bedroom while Cam camped out on his own sofa. Mike decided to sleep on the sofa in Didi's apartment, so she planned to put fresh sheets on the pull-out bed beforehand.

When they reached Cam's apartment, he unlocked his door and said, "Go on in, Greg. I'm gonna walk Mike and Didi to her door and give my fiancée a proper good night."

"Hold up," said Greg. He sighed softly and gazed at Didi and Cam. "Listen, you two . . . I know Mike and I—and the move—have taken up the bulk of your day, so, even though it's late, if you want to go somewhere and spend a little time alone together, I understand. Just . . . behave yourselves, all right?"

"You know we will, Greg," said Cam. "I gave you my word and I intend to honor it."

Didi nodded. "Me, too. I love you, Daddy." She wrapped her arms around her father and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for everything." She then took her keys from her purse and handed them to Mike. "This is the door key," she said, holding up the appropriate one. "The other is for the deadbolt, which I didn't lock anyway."

Mike nodded. "Gotcha. I'll see you when you get back and we'll work on your song."

"Okay," Didi replied. Then, "Bye," she said to both her father and her brother as she and Cam turned and headed toward the stairs.

Once they were outside, Cam took Didi to a secluded spot behind the building—an area that no windows overlooked—and said, "Teleport us to the hill, Didi." She nodded and did as he requested, adding windbreakers to the parameters.

A moment later they were once again standing on Cam's favorite grassy knoll and he sighed. "I know coming here is getting to be trite," he said, as he helped Didi into her jacket, "but it's the one place in the world where we can be alone and undisturbed."

Didi smiled softly in the moonlight, zipped up her windbreaker and said, "It's okay; I like it here. I'd spend the entire night here with you if I could—just lie here, gazing up at the stars and remembering the view from the bridge of the _Apollo_."

"And remembering that some of those lights in the sky are inhabited?" Cam queried as he zipped up his own jacket.

Didi nodded. "Yes. But when I'm with you—even knowing that dealing with those inhabited worlds is a major part of your life—it's easy to forget sometimes that all those nasty aliens really exist. And even if they do . . . I feel somehow that they can never hurt me again—that you'd never let them touch me or even get near me." She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. "Ignorance may have been bliss once upon a time, but now that I know the truth, I'm glad you're here to protect me—and my family. I only wish they knew how truly blessed we are to have you in our lives."

Cam had his arms around Didi, too, and he kissed the top of her head. "I've always taken my job of protecting the earth seriously, but I take even _more_ seriously my responsibility of protecting you and everyone else I care about from harm—of any kind."

"I love you, Cameron Mitchell," said Didi, gazing up at him.

"I love you, too, Dee." He lowered his head and kissed her warmly—the first kiss he'd had the opportunity to give her in several hours. Then he said, "Let's sit down."

"The ground's a bit chilly now," said Didi. "I'll send for a blanket."

"Get one from my camping supplies, then," said Cam. "All of yours—except for the one you put on your bed—are in bags in your apartment. Mike might see if something disappeared."

Didi nodded. "'Kay," she said. A moment later, a sturdy-looking blanket of olive green appeared on the ground by their feet.

"You've gotten so good at using the Power—you don't have to vocalize much of anything anymore, do you?"

"I've learned how to completely focus my thoughts—especially for simple matters."

"Let's spread this thing out, then, and sit down."

Once the blanket was laid out properly, the duo sat down on it and then decided to lie down instead. "I've missed this," said Cam as he gazed at Didi lovingly and caressed her cheek with his thumb, "—just lying next to you and having you beside me, where we both know you belong."

"I've missed it, too," Didi replied, gazing at him with longing in her eyes.

Cam's passion for Didi then took control, and he pulled her to him, kissing her fervently. In due course, the kissing came to a slow, gradual end and they remained wrapped in one another's arms. "After tonight," said Didi breathlessly, "we only have to spend twenty-nine more nights alone—only twenty-nine more nights of staring at the ceiling and empty pillows instead of looking at each other."

"I do love you, Dee, and I thank God every morning and every night for allowing this to happen, although I know the decision to stay together was ours to make. And I have to thank _you_ for wanting me to be a part of your life."

"Cam love . . . even if we'd only had one day together—like the Cam and Didi from this world—I would never have been the same after meeting you and enduring what we did in the arena. For the rest of my life I would've been haunted by the memory of you and of our time together. I would've wanted to see you again—no matter what it took."

"That goes both ways, hun," said Cam. "Granted, going back to work would've kept me occupied for a while, but . . . I don't think I'd've ever been able to forget you. Sooner or later I would've gone looking for you—first in Topeka . . . and if I didn't find you there, I'd've looked for you at your cousin Eddie's shop in Colorado Springs. We were meant to be, Dee. There's no doubt in my mind about that."

He kissed her again and then held her tightly to him. For several minutes, neither of them said a word. Finally breaking the silence, Didi said, "I've been alive twenty-seven days now. I figured it out while I was driving this morning. Somehow it seems longer."

"Twenty-seven days . . . ." Cam pulled back a little and looked at her thoughtfully and with some concern. "If you've really been alive that long, then . . . shouldn't you have had . . . your, um . . ."

"I did," Didi said with a barely-there smile, not making him say it, "—last week. I didn't mention it because we weren't . . . together. It wasn't relevant."

"Last week, huh? So that means we'll have about—"

"Three weeks, give or take a couple of days."

Cam nodded. "Good enough. You'll be over it in time for the wedding. Thank God for small favors—and I mean that sincerely. He's accommodated us in so many ways. . . ."

Didi smiled. "You really have changed, Cam—as far as your faith in God is concerned, anyway."

"That's your doing, Dee. No one else in the cosmos could've made a believer out of me the way you did."

"I was simply the right woman in the right place at the right time. I didn't do anything special."

"Oh yes, you did! You _showed_ me, Dee; you didn't just _talk_ about God . . . and you didn't preach at me. You were simply . . . yourself—unabashedly religious and faithful—and the things you said would happen really happened; God came through for us in every way. I became a believer even before we saw what happened to the Chak-tuk—and it wasn't just the voice in my head that told me to _take care of you because I was all you had_ that made a believer out of me. I could've shrugged that off as a hallucination if I'd been so inclined. But events proved to me that God exists and is aware of us. He cares about us, even if we are clones. None of that would've happened—none of the changes I've undergone would have occurred—if it hadn't been for you, Dee."

"I'm glad I could help," said Didi humbly.

Cam kissed her on the forehead and said, "We'd better get back: it's nearly midnight. But I'm glad we had this chance to spend some time alone and to talk like this. Come on." He got to his feet and helped her to hers. "Send the blanket to my laundry room and I'll take care of it first chance I get." Didi nodded and the blanket disappeared. "Now . . . take us back to the spot we left from."

They appeared in the exact same location on the grounds outside of the Grenadier Arms apartments and took off their windbreakers, after which Didi sent them back to their respective closets. They then walked around the building and went inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor. Cam accompanied Didi to her door and gathered her into his arms. "I love you, angel," he said. The kiss he gave her was soft, sweet and tantalizing. "Good night, Dee; I'll see you in the morning." He kissed her forehead and then released her.

"Good night, Cam, love," Didi said as he turned to go. "Thank you." Then she opened her door and went inside.

"So," said Mike, approaching her as she closed the door behind her, "did you do enough necking to make up for a week and a half away from each other?"

"Just about," Didi responded, remembering that her brother was not aware that she and Cam had been spending time together almost every night since he had returned to Colorado Springs. "But we did some talking, too," she added as she locked the door.

"About what?" Mike queried, wrapping an arm around his little sister and guiding her to the sofa.

"About God . . . and His place in our lives—about how much He's done for us," Didi replied as she and her brother sat down side by side.

"Wow! That surprises me . . . not about _you_—you've always had a lot of faith in God. But I just didn't peg Cam as the religious type."

Didi shook her head. "He wasn't. That's part of what we were talking about."

"You made a believer out of him, is that what you're saying?"

Didi blushed modestly. "That's what he tells me. His grandmother was a believer, and she did her best to try to teach him about faith and about God, but . . . he wasn't really interested. It's not that he was _completely_ without belief: he once told me that soldiers in trenches and pilots in dogfights _always_ believe in God, even if only for a few minutes. But he didn't _actively_ believe. I guess I may've had _some_ influence on him. He prays now. . . ."

"Good for him—and good for you for getting him there. Maybe your marriage will work out after all. . . . So, since he wasn't all that religious, what was it that attracted you to Cam in the first place?"

"His eyes and his smile," Didi replied honestly. "He has the most expressive eyes I've ever seen, and when he smiles, his whole face lights up. It's beautiful!"

Mike shook his head. "I never thought I see you fall in love again—and certainly not this hard or this quickly. It amazes me."

Didi nodded. "I know. It amazed me, too, when I realized what was happening. But Cam is just so . . . _awesome_. Yes, I am head-over-heels in love with the man, and I have no qualms and no reservations. Our relationship is going to last forever because all either of us wants is to make the other happy. That's what love is all about."

"Yeah, it is," agreed Mike, "—when it's real."

Didi wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big hug. "I'm glad I have you for a brother, Mike. You've always been there for me and supported me through thick and thin. You have no idea how much that means to me."

"That goes both ways, Dee. I love Thé, but she isn't as sensitive as you are, and she has a bit of a mean streak sometimes. You've always been sweet to me, and I appreciate it more than you know. Now, let's get to work on your song."

"Okay!" Didi located her electronic keyboard and its stand and set it up by the sofa. Her brother then listened as she sang the song that she had written as an expression of her love for Cam. As she sang, she remembered how she had felt that night back on Planet Max when she had first sung it to him while bathing, and she wondered how her brother would react if he knew the truth about the song's origin . . . but that would require his knowing the truth about _everything_—and that was something that was _never _going to happen.

Although she sang the song through only once, Mike was able to play both the melody and a perfect harmony on the first try. Didi smiled at him. "You are _so_ talented, Mike!" she said.

"It's a nice song, Dee," he told her, "—simple, but nice. It's a good tune, typical of your style."

"I have a style?"

"Of course you do! It's kind of a . . . folksy, pop/ballad mix. You may not be a composer _per se_, but you come up with some decent tunes, and they sound good when an arrangement is written for them. I really like this one." He nodded. "I think I can write a satisfying arrangement with which to accompany you at your reception."

"That'd be great, bro. Thanks." She sighed. "Are you ready to go to bed yet?"

Mike shook his head. "Nah. As tired as I am, I'm too wired to relax and unwind yet. Anyway, since we're turning in the van in the morning and renting a car to drive home, we don't have to get up _too_ early, and we don't have to get home in a hurry, either. Let's just talk a little while, okay?"

"Sure," Didi replied. The duo spent the next hour discussing Cam, with Mike asking questions and Didi answering them. Mike was surprised to find out just how much his sister already knew about Cam, despite the short time that they had supposedly known one another.

As they chatted, they began unloading boxes of paperback books and putting them onto shelves, with Didi showing Mike her method for organizing and alphabetizing them.

Meanwhile, Cam and Greg were as wired as Mike claimed to be. They were, therefore, lounging around Cam's living room discussing Didi while downing a few beers. They were both well aware of the fact that Didi couldn't stand the smell of the stuff, but since neither of them expected to see her again until morning, they decided to indulge themselves a little and spend some quality "guy" time together.

Greg opened up more about Didi and her special "gifts," as he had called them, telling Cam about how they had affected him. As Cam had suspected, Didi's gifts did work more subtly on Greg than they had on him, since Greg was already an upright, moral and religious man.

When Daniel Jackson had persisted in asking Cam if he realized how lucky he was to have Didi, Cam couldn't even begin to explain to Daniel just how well aware he was of that fact. Even though all of the clones sensed to some degree what kind of a person Didi was, none of them came close to understanding her unique and truly extraordinary nature. Cam knew that he was blessed; he knew that God had, for some reason, smiled on him and allowed him to win the heart of the choicest woman in the multi-verse.

By the time their wristwatches beeped the arrival of one a.m., the beer had taken its toll on the two men. Greg wandered off to Cam's bedroom and Cam threw himself onto his sofa, not even bothering to pull out the bed. In some tiny corner of his brain that was still capable of lucid thought, Cam was glad that Didi couldn't see him now. Grunting, he rolled up onto his side and drifted off to sleep.

Didi's alarm went off at six-thirty the next morning. She rolled out of bed, said her prayers, and then went to the bathroom to begin her "toilette."

Because the group was planning to go to IHOP at eight (for which Didi wanted to do her hair and make-up), and because she only had one bathroom (which she was going to have to share with her brother today), she chose to arise early and get started. The men, she figured, wouldn't get up before seven. That would give her just about enough time . . . .

Didi was fully dressed and ready to go with a few minutes to spare before seven o'clock. She felt unusually bright-eyed and bushy-tailed considering that she hadn't gone to bed until after one a.m. and hadn't had to get up early for several years—except on Sundays, of course.

After making her bed, she sat at the foot of it and brought up a holographic projection of Cam, wanting to see if he was up and around yet. "Oh my!" she exclaimed in dismay.

Her fiancé was sprawled out on his sofa, still fully-clad. His shoes were on the floor beneath the coffee table, and a number of empty beer bottles were evident on top of it. Didi sighed. "Men!" she said, rolling her eyes. Cloaking herself, she teleported to Cam's apartment, intending to use her Power to clean up the mess. The smell of beer almost gagged her . . . until she remembered that she could dissipate the smell—which she promptly did.

After she had finished tidying up the living room, she knelt on the floor beside the sofa and put her hands on Cam's head, commanding that the hangover he no doubt had would be lessened by fifty percent. She sighed again afterward, thinking to herself: _Not that he deserves even that much of a break, the silly goose! I should've just let him stew! But having both Cam and Dad severely hung over this morning would probably ruin any chance of breakfast at IHOP being any fun at all!_

With that thought in mind, she teleported into Cam's bedroom—still cloaked—and did the same for her father. He, too, had passed out with his clothes on, and he was still wearing his shoes. Cam's bed was a mess. She shook her head. She would help Cam change his bedding later.

Teleporting back to the living room, she then uncloaked herself and went to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker going. Although she didn't drink coffee herself, she knew Cam and her father would be grateful for a cup, and preparing coffee had been one of her duties at the optical. Dr. Prendergast didn't like his quite as strong as Cam did, but, while at the decommissioned SGC, Cam had taught her how to make it to his taste—for future reference. That knowledge was now coming in handy.

With that task done, she returned to the living room, sat down on the sofa next to Cam's sprawled out body and said softly, "Cam love, it's time to get up." She then bent over and tenderly kissed him on the cheek. He swatted at her like a fly, actually making contact with her cheek. "Ouch!" she cried.

"Huh? Wha . . .?" Cam's eyes began to flutter open. "Didi?" he said.

"Yes, Cam, it's me." Her voice was not as genial as it had been, but she remained patient. She had forgotten that she needed to be careful while awakening him from a sound sleep.

Cam struggled slowly to an upright position, blinking in the half-light of early morning. "What time is it?"

"About quarter after seven," Didi replied. She then gave him a report of her activities from the time she had awakened at six-thirty.

"You cleaned up the place and then reduced our hangovers?"

"Yep. And I started the coffeemaker going."

Cam smiled crookedly, feeling sheepish. "I don't deserve you," he said.

"No, you don't," Didi agreed, "—not this morning, anyway. I should've just left the two of you to suffer the full consequences of your own stupidity. Why on Earth did you drink so much last night?"

"Actually," said Cam, "I just thought it'd be a good idea to get rid of all the beer I had in the refrigerator before you start spending time here with me, and it occurred to me that it'd be easier to do if the two of us tackled them together."

"And how many beers had you already had before this brilliant idea occurred to you?"

"I don't know . . . about four or five maybe. There weren't that many left after that."

"I guess not! Cam, you promised me you wouldn't drink more than two beers at any given time!"

"That only applies if I'm drinking at a bar or at someone else's house before coming home. You were concerned about my driving home drunk, so I promised I wouldn't exceed a two-beer limit. Doesn't apply to what I drink at home. Anyway, it's all gone now, and I don't intend to replace it, so . . ."

Didi shook her head. "You could've just given it to friends—or put it in an ice chest and sent it home with Dad and Mike. Dad could've dropped the ice chest off at your folks' place and they could've kept it for you until you went home to visit again."

Cam sighed. "I wish I'd thought of that last night. Even though you've lessened the hangover, I still feel like an idiot for getting that drunk in the first place."

"As well you should. I thought about removing the hangovers completely, but then it occurred to me that Dad might wonder why he wasn't hung over at all after drinking so many beers."

"I appreciate even the fifty percent drop. I am in pain, but it isn't unbearable. Thanks for that."

"I'm glad you're appreciative," Didi said as she rose to her feet. With hands on hips she looked down at Cam and added, "I've decided to relinquish the Power once and for all after I've had a chance to heal Daniel a little, so I won't be able to fix your mistakes for you anymore."

Cam nodded. "Whatever you think is best." He sighed. "You'd better head back to your place now and find out if Mike's stirring yet. I'll wake your dad up so we can get dressed and ready to go."

Didi nodded. "All right. I'll see you in a little while." She kissed his cheek. "I love you, Cam, even if you are an idiot sometimes." She smiled a soft, indulgent smile.

"I love you, too, Dee." Cam replied, caressing her cheek. Didi then left by way of the door, just in case her brother was up and around.

When she reached her own apartment, she used her Power to unlock the door and then went inside. Mike was in the bathroom, singing opera as he shaved. Didi smiled.

"Hey, handsome!" she called through the bathroom door. "Glad you're up. Cam and Dad were still asleep when I went over there. They got drunk and were both passed out cold."

"Great," Mike said facetiously. "They're gonna be miserably hung over for hours!"

"Well, maybe a little. Cam said he hurts, but not unbearably. You may have to do the driving for a little while, though. Depends on how capable Dad feels and how much _his _head hurts."

Mike opened the bathroom door. He was wearing his pajama bottoms, but his chest was bare, as he didn't like to make a mess of his clothes by shaving with them on. "I guess I can do that. It's an easy enough drive."

Didi nodded. "Yeah, it is. Are you through shaving?"

"Yep."

"Get dressed, then, and let's head over to Cam's. You can return the T-shirt to him before we go to breakfast."

"Actually, he said I could keep the shirt. It's a medium so it doesn't fit him anymore, and he saw how much I liked it. . . ."

Didi smiled. "That sounds like Cam. Well, feel free to change in my bedroom if you want to. I noticed you put the bed away. . . . Did you remove the bedding or leave it on?"

"I took it off and carried it to your laundry room. I know how fastidious you are about sheets."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. I'm gonna go to the living room and give Mom a call."

"Good idea, since you haven't called her even once yet."

"Well, neither have you. . . ." Didi pointed out.

"Yeah, and I'm sure she's going to be pretty put out about it, too."

"I'll do my best to placate her for you. See you in a bit."

As Mike exited her bedroom a few minutes later, Didi was just finishing her call to her mother, who insisted on talking to her son. Mike wasn't happy about it, but he could hardly refuse without making his mother even more annoyed with him than she already was.

After talking to Melinda, Mike grabbed his duffel bag and accompanied Didi to Cam's apartment. After Cam ushered them in, he offered Mike a cup of coffee, which he praised as being "excellent."

"Didi made it," Cam said. "She also cleaned up the mess your dad and I left in here last night."

"Yeah, she told me you two tied one on. Bet you've got a nice hangover, huh?"

Cam nodded. "Somewhat . . . not as much as I would've _expected_ to have after the two of us polished off every bottle of beer I had in my fridge . . . but my hangover is moderate for some reason, and I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth."

Greg then said, "The same goes for me. I have enough of a headache to know that I did drink too much, but not so bad that I can't function. I'm grateful for small favors. So," he said, "Mike and I will trade the van in on a sedan and then join you two at IHOP." He rubbed his hands together and added with enthusiasm, "I'm looking forward to some steak and eggs!"

"Let's hit the road, then," said Cam, taking his car keys from his pocket.

Mr. Steadman pulled the keys to the van from his pocket with one hand, picked up his duffel bag with the other, and said, "Just save us a place at the table."

The IHOP breakfast was as good as Didi hoped it would be. She only had to make a few minor adjustments to her food, which no one but Cam even noticed she was doing. He'd seen her use her Power surreptitiously so often that he'd grown accustomed to it and knew the signs—especially when she was using it on food. Wanting a bit of tweaking done to his own breakfast, he said, "I wish these hash browns weren't quite so greasy. Yours all look okay. . . . Maybe I got the last batch out of the skillet, so they got soaked in grease, or something."

Didi gave her fiancé a hint of a smile and thought, "**Remove eighty-five percent of the grease from Cam's hash browns**." Then she sent to him, _"If they're still a little too greasy, just sigh after you take a bite or two. If they're okay now, just nod."_

A few moments later, he nodded. "They're not as bad as they seemed at first bite," he said aloud.

"Sometimes that happens," said Greg. "You get a nasty first bite, but the rest isn't quite as bad."

"Dad," queried Didi as she picked up a slice of toast, "why was Mom so much harder to convince than you were that Cam would never hurt me, and that he and I are going to be fine together? It's usually the _fathers_ that have trust issues with men who are courting their daughters."

Greg sighed. "Your mother is . . . complicated, Didi. You may not know this, but she was badly hurt herself—years before she met me—and it about killed her to see how _Tad_ treated you: we all thought the two of you were perfect for each other. Because of everything that happened both to her and to you, she became . . . wary . . . _more _than wary; she's been almost . . . _paranoid_ about your getting hurt like that again." He shook his head. "Trying to convince her that the two of you aren't making a mistake wasn't easy. But when she heard you singing love songs in the kitchen the night of your birthday dinner—added to what I told her I'd learned from talking to the both of you—it was just . . . about . . . enough."

_Not as much as you think!_ Didi thought to herself, remembering the conversation she'd had with her mother the previous morning.

"So, talking to both of us individually is what convinced _you_?" Cam asked Greg.

"Pretty much, yes. Being a man myself, I have a better sense of a man's character, I guess, than my wife does. I'm not sure why I didn't see the flaw in Tad. . . . I should have."

"Tad might not have been a great singer, Dad," said Didi, "but he _was_ a good actor. He did other plays besides _South Pacific_, you know, and he always got a standing ovation. Still, I don't think his fatal flaw would've been all that visible, even if he _hadn't_ been a skilled actor. He _treated _me as if he really loved me, and I think he genuinely did . . . just not as much as he loved himself and the idea of fathering a child. As long as he believed there was a possibility he'd get his wish, he was happy and did everything he could to keep _me_ happy. Not until the very thing he wanted most evaporated in a puff of smoke did he show his true, egocentric nature."

"If the two of you _had_ had kids together," said Mike, "he probably would've been one of those fathers who always pushes his children, promotes them at every turn, pigeon holes them into doing whatever _he _feels they should be doing . . ." He shook his head. "I don't envy the kids he _does _have."

"Have you ever seen him with his new wife and kids?" Cam queried.

"_I_ did—once," said Didi. She nodded. "I think Mike's right. From what I saw, that's _exactly_ the kind of father he is . . . and they're still just _babies_! I hate to think what he's going to be like when they get a little older."

"Did you ever tell your mother that?" Greg asked.

"Yes, Dad, I did, and that's why she's been so wary. She thought she understood men better than that; she thought she knew _Tad_ better than that."

"We _all _did. But Cameron is nothing like Tad," said Greg. "After the conversation we had at the barbeque, I'm pretty sure your mother's aware of that."

"If Didi and I ever become parents," said Cam, "—by whatever means—I intend to be pretty much the same kind of father that my dad's been to me. I'm not going to _expect_ anything of our kids . . . except that they be honest, upright, responsible people. How they choose to live their lives otherwise will be entirely up to them. I _will_ encourage them to follow their dreams if they're feasible, and I'll try not to _dis_courage them too soon if I _don't _think they're feasible: sometimes kids need to try their wings before they find out they weren't meant to fly. Yeah, falling flat on your face can be painful . . . but, for some people, it's better than never trying and spending your whole life wondering what _might_ have been."

"Have you had any 'might have beens' in _your_ life, Cam?" Greg queried.

"Not really," said Cam with a soft smile. "As I said before, the only regret I have is that I didn't meet Didi sooner. Everything I've ever wanted I've found in Didi."

"And you're willing to adopt children if nothing can be done to correct Didi's . . . condition?"

"Yeah, I am. If Didi wants kids and she can't give birth to them, we'll get them some other way. I want her to be happy, and I'd like to be a dad myself. As I told Melinda at the barbeque: I don't have to sire a child to prove my manhood. As long as I can make Didi happy and be a good father to the children God deigns to give us—by whatever means—I'll be fulfilled."

Greg looked at his daughter and said, "It's easy to see why you love this man so much, Dee."

Didi smiled at her father. "We may not've known each other long, but the time we _have_ spent together has been quality time, and I've had ample opportunity to discover how good a man Cam truly is."

"A wise man once said that the main cause of divorce is selfishness on the part of one or both parties," commented Greg. "If you two always put each other first, just as you do now, your marriage should last forever."

Cam nodded. "It certainly has worked for _my_ folks," he said. "The more Dad does for Mom, the more she wants to do for him and vice-versa. Love begets love; giving begets giving. That's what it's all about. And that's the way Didi and I feel about each other."

"You've made that very clear," said Greg, "and I couldn't be happier for both of you. Now, is anybody up for dessert?"

Everyone was pretty much full; the answer was a definite "no." Cam paid the check—a parting gift to his soon-to-be in-laws—and Greg paid the tip.

"What do you want for a wedding present?" Greg asked as they headed for the parking lot.

"Just your presence at the ceremony," said Cam as they reached his SUV. "We don't really need anything—except a honeymoon. Since Didi's just starting work for Eddie on Monday, it's probably going to be a while before we can actually get away and go anywhere."

"I'll run over to Eddie's house and talk to him before we leave town—find out how soon he'd be willing to let Didi off for a week or so," said Greg as he unlocked his rental car. "He won't be happy, of course, to let her have time off at all this soon. But when he finds out she's getting married on November first . . . ." He shrugged. "I'll see if I can persuade him to let her have a week off around Thanksgiving, at least. That way you can still come home to Kansas for Christmas and New Year's. Where were you planning to go on your honeymoon, by the way?"

Cam looked at Didi and then back at Greg. "We haven't really decided on an exact location yet," he said. "We just wanna go someplace tropical."

Greg nodded. "Well, if you do get to go over Thanksgiving, heading to the tropics might not be such a good idea. You'd probably end up getting drenched in torrential tropical rainfalls."

"You may be right," Cam acknowledged. "I'll check online and see." He stretched out his hand. "Well, thanks for everything, Greg. It was good to have a chance to spend more time with you before Didi and I tie the knot in a month's time. I'm glad you approve and that Melinda's finally come around."

"I'll do my best to see that she stays that way and doesn't change her mind again," Greg assured him, shaking his hand warmly. "I have no doubt you'll make the best husband Didi could possibly have."

"Thanks," Cam said. He released Greg's hand and then turned to the younger Steadman male and said, "Mike, I know you and I didn't hit it off at first, but . . . since this is going to be a family-only wedding, would you consider being my Best Man?"

Mike smiled softly, looking a bit sheepish. "I'm really sorry about earlier, Cam. I was way out of line; I shouldn't've jumped to conclusions about you. Dad was right: you're a good man. I'd be proud to stand up for you."

"Thanks, man," Cam said, punching Mike gently in the shoulder. "I appreciate it."

While the two younger men were having the foregoing conversation, Didi was chatting with and hugging her father. When Cam and Mike were finished, Didi hugged her brother. Mike then held out his hand for the car keys and asked, "You want me to drive, Dad?"

Greg shook his head. "No need, son," he said. "I'm not hurting all that badly. That wonderful breakfast, the two aspirin I took, and all that black coffee seem to've gotten rid of the worst of the pain."

Mike nodded. "All right. But if you change your mind . . ."

Greg shrugged and said to Cam and Didi, "Goodbye, you two. I hope to see you again sometime before the wedding. Take care."

"Bye!" said Cam and Didi together, as they stood by the SUV, arm in arm, watching and waving while Greg and Mike drove away.

Cam then turned toward Didi and asked, "Ready to go to the hospital and see Jackson now?"

She nodded. "Yes, I am. After that big breakfast, the last thing I wanna do right now is unpack all those boxes that are waiting for me back at my apartment. I need time to let my tummy settle a little."

"Yeah, me too. Hop in, hun," Cam said as he opened the door for her. Once they were both inside, he started the car and said, "Just keep in mind when you're talking to him that _this_ Jackson doesn't know you all that well." As he fastened his seatbelt, he added, "The Didi from this world was with SG-1 for less than twenty-four hours before she and the other Mitchell went into the arena together." While backing out, he continued, "And _I_ pretty much monopolized you while we were aboard the _Apollo_."

"I remember," said Didi, as Cam exited the parking lot. "I've been thinking about that ever since you told me you were taking me to see him. I've been thinking about how much I should _heal_ him, too."

"How about something like—oh, I don't know—five percent per hour 'til he's fully healed?" suggested Cam. "Would that work?"

"At five percent per hour he'd be healed in only twenty hours," Didi calculated, "and that would probably raise a lot of eyebrows. Maybe _one_ percent would be better . . . unless he's more on the mend than I expect him to be."

"One percent per hour, huh? That's . . . what?—a little more than four days?"

"Yeah. Four days would be 96 hours."

"I guess that would be less suspicious, but still maybe a little too quick."

"I'll assess the damage before I decide," Didi decided, "and ask Daniel what the doctors have said the prognosis is—how soon they think it'll be before he's fully recovered."

"And if it's as much as a month?"

"I'll shorten it to . . . oh, maybe . . . two and a half to three weeks."

"That sounds reasonable." Cam pulled into a parking lot. "We're here," he said.

Didi's heart began to race. She could be friendly, but she shouldn't be effusive or overly familiar . . . which could be difficult since she knew the Daniel clone so well and was certain that this Daniel was very much like that one. She realized that the worst thing she could do now is to be overly nervous and blow the whole thing. _Calm down!_ she told herself. _Just . . . calm down!_

"Colonel Mitchell!" one of the nurses greeted him. "Are you here to see Dr. Jackson again?"

"Yes, I am," Cam said, "and I brought my fiancée with me this time. She and Dr. Jackson have met, but they don't know each other well and haven't seen each other for a few weeks."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to see her all the same," the nurse, whose surname was Burbidge, replied.

"Have Vala Mal Doran or Colonel Carter been by yet?"

The nurse nodded. "They dropped in together last night. Ms. Mal Doran seemed particularly distressed at his condition."

"Yeah, she's got some pretty strong feelings for Dr. Jackson," Cam said. "You'll probably be seeing a lot more of her, now that she knows he's here."

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised," said Nurse Burbidge. "I'll let you two get on with your visit, then. Have a nice day!"

Daniel's room was on the fourth floor, so they had to ride the elevator up. Didi hated elevators. She hated the feeling that her stomach was dropping and then bouncing back up, like a rubber ball. When the doors opened on the fourth floor and they stepped out into the corridor, she burped. Cam looked at her with bemusement. "Elevators don't agree with you, huh?"

Didi shook her head. "No, they don't. I have a harder time with elevators than I do with roller coasters."

"It's probably because elevators are so . . . subtle," said Cam, taking her hand and leading her to Daniel's room. "Sometimes subtle movement can be harder on the stomach than rapid, aggressive movement is. Here we go!"

The door to Daniel's room was open. The duo walked right in. "Hey, Jackson!" Cam greeted his colleague. "Look who I brought with me!"

Didi smiled softly. "Hi, Daniel."

"Hey, Didi! It's good to see you. How've you been?"

"Good . . . _really_ good."

"Mitchell told me you two are engaged. . . ."

"Yes, we are," Didi replied, holding out her left hand. "See?"

The archaeologist's mouth dropped open slightly. "Wow! That's . . . beautiful!" He looked at Cam with a mixture of respect and mild surprise. "You've got good taste, Mitchell."

Didi nodded, smiling happily. "Yes, he does," she said.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Daniel asked. "I mean, how long have you two even known each other? It's been what?—less than three weeks, right?"

"Something like that," said Didi noncommittally. "But sometimes it doesn't take long to fall in love and to find out that it's absolutely, positively _right_. The way I understand it, you had only known Sha're for a few _hours_ before she decided she wanted to marry you."

"Well, those were . . . unusual circumstances," Daniel quibbled.

"And ours weren't?" Cam said. "We met on an alien planet and I saved Didi from being eaten by a freakin' _dinosaur_! It was an experience that we could at least _try_ to build a relationship on. And it just happened to work out."

"Well then, I hope the two of you will be very happy together. Really. I mean it."

"Thanks, Daniel," said Didi with a soft smile. "So . . . what do the doctors say? Any idea how long it'll be before they let you go back to work?"

"Oh, I can go back to _desk_ work in a couple of weeks; 'gate travel, though . . . that might take a while longer. I broke some ribs and they're not going to heal up overnight."

"Do you even _want_ to return to traveling through the 'gate?" Cam asked.

Daniel sighed, his brow furrowed. "You know, I'm not really sure. Under certain circumstances I might like to make the occasional trip, but . . . on a regular basis as a part of SG-1? . . ." He shook his head. "I just don't know. There are so many things I'd like to work on that have nothing to do with 'gate travel or alien worlds and all the problems that go with that whole . . . scene. . . . I think I may ask General Landry for a sabbatical and see how I feel in a few months' time."

"How long will it be until they at least let you out of the hospital?" Didi queried.

"Middle of next week, if I continue healing at my current rate. They intend to make me promise to take it easy once I go home, though. They don't want me going to work at the SGC for any reason until there's no danger of my tearing my sutures open or of re-injuring myself in any way."

Didi nodded, looking thoughtful. She sent to Cam, _"Converse with him and keep him distracted while I heal him."_

"So, Nurse Burbidge said that Vala and Carter came to see you last night," said Cam. "How did that go?"

While Daniel answered Cam's query—making his usual caustic remarks about Vala, which Didi absolutely hated to hear him do—she looked down at him and thought, _It'll be about five days before he's released from the hospital. With that timetable in the doctors' minds, even one percent per hour of healing would be pushing it._

Didi came to the conclusion, therefore, that the best way to handle the situation was to request that his body heal gradually and at a steady rate until he was fully healed—_of the injuries he had most recently sustained_—by the end of four weeks' time. The request was made. It would be so steady and so gradual that it would hardly be noticeable. Nonetheless, it would get Daniel back to work sooner than the doctors were currently anticipating and he'd find himself feeling better little by little each day.

Didi wanted to ease his pain somewhat, but she knew that if she did, he might overdo it and re-injure himself, thinking he was more healed than he actually was. It would be better if the pain subsided on its own as the healing process progressed.

Finished with her task, Didi tuned in to the conversation the two men were having. They seemed to be discussing the upcoming wedding. "So, Didi, are your parents okay with your getting engaged so soon after meeting Mitchell?" Daniel asked her.

"Yes, they are," said Didi. "My mom had some issues for a while, but she's finally come around, thankfully."

"Well if her 'issues' return and she needs a character reference," said Daniel, "I'd be glad to give her one. After four years, I think I know Mitchell well enough to say that the last thing he'd ever do is to hurt you in any way—if he could possibly avoid it. If he's given you his heart, I'm pretty sure it'll be for life, because that's the kind of man he is. When he commits to something, he sees it through."

Didi nodded. "I know. And thank you for that. I appreciate it."

"No problem. How do your parents feel about your having this intimate little 'family only' wedding in Auburn?"

"They're fine with it," Didi replied. "I already had a big church wedding with all the trimmings the first time around, so I don't really want to have another one. The reception, though . . . that's gonna be _huge_!"

"May I infer, then, that you're going to invite pretty much everyone you know to the reception?"

"Yeah, we are," said Cam, "—including you . . . if you're well enough to make it all the way to Kansas."

"Yes," said Didi. "It's awful that you had to get hurt like this, Daniel. I hope you'll be healed up enough to come to the reception and to wish us well."

"I'll do my best to make it, even if my ribs are still bandaged."

"Just don't overdo it, Daniel," said Didi.

"I'll try not to," Daniel replied pragmatically.

"Well," said Cam, "I guess it's about time we headed out. We have a whole passel of boxes back at Didi's place that need unpacking. We'll keep in touch and drop in and see you again sometime soon." He held out his hand and shook Daniel's. "Take care, Jackson."

"You, too and . . . if I don't make it to the wedding reception . . . have someone take pictures for me—even if it's just with a cell phone camera. I'd like to see how beautiful the bride looks."

Didi smiled, bent down and kissed his cheek. "There will be pictures, I promise." She stood up. "Hurry up and get well, Daniel. We'll see you again in a few days."

"Bye, guys. Good luck!"

Once they were outdoors and headed for Cam's SUV, he asked, "Are you going to relinquish the Power now? You said you were going to after healing Jackson. . . ."

Didi bit her lip. "I probably should, but . . . as I told _our_ Daniel on my first full day here in this universe, I want to try to find a way to get the other clones to our wedding."

"Why?" Cam asked as he unlocked the doors. "I know you miss them, but is having them at our wedding really worth all the effort you'd have to go through to make it happen?"

Didi sighed as she climbed into the SUV. Once Cam was inside with her, she said, "When I first discussed it with Daniel back then, it was because it'd only been a few days since we'd sent them all off to their new lives, and I did miss them—terribly. But, after spending a little time with Sam aboard the _Apollo_, I figured the members of SG-1 on _this_ world could become my friends, too—in place of the clones. So getting the clones to the wedding wasn't all that important anymore and I was ready to relinquish the Power.

"But after everything you said about them maybe wanting to go their separate ways—and after talking to Daniel just now and having him more or less confirm it—it looks like I may not get the chance to make them a part of my life after all. So, I'd like to see the clones one more time, just to say goodbye."

"In other words," said Cam as he started the engine (having had his hands on the steering wheel while listening to everything Didi was saying), "if this SG-1 isn't going to be a part of your life, you need closure of some kind, and saying goodbye to the clones is the only way you feel you can get it."

"Yes, exactly. As you pointed out, this Daniel—and the other members of this world's SG-1—didn't spend as much time with their Didi as I had with the clones on Planet Max. They don't have that much of an emotional investment in me as a person. I need the opportunity to see the clones, to say goodbye and to let go of SG-1 once and for all."

"And if we have the team from this world to dinner sometime before they all go their separate ways, would that help?" Cam queried as he headed back to the Grenadier Arms.

"A little. It'll give me a chance to break with them, too—but in a different way and on a different level."

"So, how do you propose to pull it off?—having the clones at the wedding. It's supposed to be a family-only wedding—and they're not family."

"I plan to cloak them so no one can see them—except for us. (I'd put a parameter to that effect in place.) Then they can be there and watch and . . . maybe I could stop time in the middle of our kiss and we could give them all hugs and take time to say one final goodbye—and they could say goodbye to each other, too."

"That sounds like a huge undertaking, hun," said Cam. "Are you sure you can do it?"

"After everything I did at the decommissioned SGC, how can you doubt me?" Didi asked.

"You had a little help, remember?" Cam pointed out.

Didi looked over at him, smiled and said, "Yes, love, I remember. You did a _great deal_ to help. I'm just saying . . . I think I'm capable of pulling it off on my own. If not, I might be able to get some assistance from Daniel. . . ."

"Yeah, I guess you could at that—especially if he plans to attend the wedding himself. You'd probably have to work out the details with him ahead of time—decide who's going to do what. . . ."

"Yes, I would," Didi agreed, "and I have a whole month to do it in."

"I wouldn't mind seeing them all again myself," Cam admitted. "Since I haven't had a chance to spend much time with the SG-1 here either, I sort of miss the old gang, too."

"We've both been kind of up in the air since we got here," said Didi, "and since we're determined to get married ASAP, our lives have been a little complicated. I'm just glad everything's coming together so well. I want to be with you, Cam—now and forever."

"Me too, hun. Me too." He put his hand on her knee for a moment and then moved it to the stick and shifted gears. "But we have to take each day as it comes, and right now that means getting you settled. We'll be at the apartment complex in a few minutes. Then we need to get back to work."

Didi nodded and looked across at Cam with love. He truly was one in a billion. . . .


	40. Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40: FINISHING TOUCHES

After spending some time unloading boxes and cartons, Cam and Didi had lunch at his apartment, fixing themselves sandwiches. While they were eating, Didi's cell phone rang. She removed it from her pocket and looked at it. It was her mother. Melinda asked how things were going, and Didi told her what progress they had made so far. "We still have a lot to do, though. We barely put a dent in it. Have you heard from Dad since he left here this morning?"

"Yes, dear, he called me from Hays when he and Michael stopped there for lunch again."

"Did Dad say anything to you about when Eddie might be willing to let me have some time off? He told us he'd stop by and see Eddie before leaving Colorado Springs—"

"Yes, Dina, dear. Eddie plans to give you nine days off, starting from the moment you close up shop the Friday_ before_ Thanksgiving and ending the Monday immediately following Thanksgiving weekend. He'll simply hire a temp for the Monday thru Wednesday prior to Thanksgiving so that people who are waiting for their glasses to come in will be able to pick them up. He doesn't intend to see any patients himself that week, and he's more than happy to allow you the time to take a honeymoon trip with Cameron. He's delighted that you're marrying him.

"By the way: we've scheduled the wedding for two o'clock in the afternoon, if that's all right with you. Since you and Cameron won't be arriving until sometime Friday evening, you won't have a lot of time, so I don't want you to be rushed to the chapel first thing in the morning."

"Two o'clock is fine. That'll give us time to sleep in and pull ourselves together before we have to get all dressed up. Have you and Wendy started making plans for the reception, too?"

"Yes, we have. We're going to look for a large reception center somewhere here in Topeka, rent it for the night, and then start working on the guest list and order the invitations. . . . Speaking of which: you and Cameron need to find a photographer and get a picture taken as soon as possible so that we can use it with the invitations. Your father and I are going to put an announcement of your wedding in all of the local newspapers—after it's over and done with, of course, so that no one outside of the family will show up and crash it—but we're going to need a photo for that, too.

"Frank and Wendy have spoken to the pastor of the church in Auburn where Cameron was christened," Melinda continued, "and he said he'd be delighted to officiate at your wedding. To show their appreciation, Frank and Wendy are planning to start attending church there—for a little while, at least."

"If the pastor's good at his job, maybe they'll _keep_ going," Didi said

"We can always hope," Melinda replied.

"Mom," said Didi tenderly, "thank you. I'm so glad you're at peace with this now. Cam and I—especially I—needed your acceptance. We would've gone through with the wedding anyway, but it's just nice to be able to do it with your blessing. I'm so happy things are working out this way—for all of us."

"So am I, dear. By the way, Thé would like to be your Matron of Honor—unless you'd rather ask Ashley. . . ."

"I love Ashley, but no. Thé is my only sister. I'd be glad to have her by my side. Just make sure you tell her to wear a conservative gown in some shade of blue. I'm gonna have Cam take me to a bridal shop here in Colorado Springs to pick out something for myself. Hopefully I can find a gown that's light blue and very lacy."

"Do you _have_ to wear a lacy gown again?" Melinda asked, sounding slightly exasperated.

"What do you mean?" Didi queried. "I _loved_ that gown. . . ."

"Well, that makes _one_ of you. . . ."

"You didn't like my wedding gown?"

"Not particularly, no. Honestly, Dina, I wish you had chosen the other one instead—the satin one with all the beautiful beadwork."

"Why didn't you say something at the time?"

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings, dear, but you looked like a walking doily in that thing! And then, to top it all off, you decided to keep it!"

"I thought it would make a nice heirloom. . . ."

"I'm sure you did." Melinda sighed. "I suppose there's a possibility that someone sometime in the future might like it as much as you do. . . ."

"All right," Didi said with a sigh. "I'll reconsider and look for something that _isn't _lacy. Right now, though, I've gotta go. My sandwich is drying out, and Cam and I need to get back to work soon. I'll talk to you again later, okay?"

"All right, dear. Have a good afternoon and give Cameron my love."

"I will. Bye, Mom." Didi closed her phone and put it back in her pocket. "Mom sends her love," she said distractedly, staring at the salt and pepper shakers in the center of the table.

"What was all that about?" Cam asked before eating the last bite of his sandwich.

"Mom didn't like my wedding gown," Didi replied, looking at Cam with a crestfallen expression.

"Why? Wha'd she say?"

"She asked me if I _have _towear a lacy gown again. She didn't want to hurt my feelings, so she didn't tell me at the time that she didn't like the gown I chose. She thought I looked like a walking doily. She wished I'd chosen the other gown instead."

"What other gown?" Cam asked, thoroughly confused.

"When I was looking for a wedding gown, I fell in love with two of them. One of them was lacy; the other one wasn't: it was made of satin and had lots of beadwork. They were both beautiful, but, due completely to happenstance, I ended up with the lacy one."

"Happenstance? What happenstance?"

"Since I couldn't decide between the two gowns, I closed my eyes while Thé held one in each hand and mixed them around. When I reached out and grabbed one, it just happened to be the lacy one."

"Do you still have it?"

"Yes, it's in my hope chest."

"Really? After the divorce, I'm surprised you kept it."

"Why shouldn't I keep it? It's beautiful. I couldn't bring myself to part with it."

"When we go back to your place after you're through eating, you can show me this giant doily of yours. I'd like to see it—just out of curiosity."

Didi nodded. "All right," she said.

"We'll have to make it quick, though: we still have a lot of boxes to unpack."

"I'm about done," said Didi. "Just give me a minute." She polished off her sandwich, chips and lemonade and then said, "I think we can finish the living room tonight—if we keep after it."

"I guess I can't stop anymore and ask you about every book, CD and movie that's new to me."

"We'll have lots of time in the future to peruse each other's media collections, Cam. Today we need to focus on getting things organized."

"If we finish the living room tonight, we can work on the kitchen and dining area tomorrow."

Didi nodded. "That's what I was thinking, too."

"If you're through eating, let's get moving."

"Okay," Didi replied.

They gathered up their trash and threw it away, after which Didi dampened a sponge and cleaned the table. When that was done, they left the kitchen and headed for the front door. Cam allowed Didi to exit first, then locked the door behind him and followed Didi down the hall to her apartment. Once they were inside, he shut the door and followed her to her bedroom.

Didi's hope chest stood at the foot of her bed—the traditional place for it. It wasn't locked and hadn't been for many years. She knelt on the floor in front of the chest, opened it and lifted out the beautiful gown that was encased in protective plastic.

Didi sighed. "It's so beautiful," she said longingly. "I hate the thought that Mom didn't like it. I wish I'd known."

Cam helped Didi to her feet as she draped the gown across her outstretched arms. "It does have a lot of lace, but it is really nice," Cam said sincerely, running his hand over it gently. "It's no wonder you didn't wanna part with it." He looked at Didi and said, "It should be an heirloom."

"Yes, it should," Didi agreed, moving around the hope chest and laying the gown out full-length on the bed. She then sat down on the corner of the bed close by.

"Could you maybe . . . bring up a holographic projection and show me the other gown?—the one you _didn't_ choose?" Cam asked.

Didi sighed. "Yes, I suppose I could."

"And show me what it looked like while you were trying it on."

Didi complied with Cam's request.

The "other" gown was made of ivory-colored satin. It had long, tapered sleeves, a modest bodice, a rounded neckline, and unpretentious but exquisite beadwork. Cam looked at it appreciatively. "It really is beautiful," he said. "And you look beautiful in it. I wish you could wear _it_ when we get married." He gazed at Didi as she paused the projection.

"But . . . Mom and Thé would recognize it. . . ."

"Not if you make a few changes to it. Anyway, it's been over ten years. . . ." Cam took Didi's hands in his and pulled her to her feet. "Look at it this way, Dee: you get the best of both worlds. By sheer chance, you picked and wore this lacy gown the first time. But, thanks to the Chak-tuk Power, this time around you could wear the _other_ gown. How many brides get a chance like that?

"I hate to say this, hun," he continued, "but . . . I really do like the satin one better. It's a work of art. This one—with all that lace—honestly, your mom was probably right: it undoubtedly made you look like a walking doily. Something similar in blue would probably be even worse."

Didi had a crooked smile on her face and sighed. "You have a point . . . but I really do like lace."

"Hey, I got nothin' against lace, generally speaking. I love that little black teddy I bought you, and it's got its share of lace. But . . . this gown—it's _covered_ in the stuff. There's enough lace on it to make a tablecloth."

Didi tipped her head to one side. "I guess you're right. But . . . how do I do it, even by using the Power? Am I supposed to teleport the other gown here from the past?—virtually stealing it from the store and very probably depriving some other girl of the opportunity of wearing it?"

"Not necessarily. Do you have a dress or something in your closet that you never wear anymore? You could transmute it to look like this other gown and then make some minor changes to it."

Didi bit her lip thoughtfully and nodded. "Come here." She led Cam to her closet. "Since this is _your_ idea, _you _can look and find a gown or a long dress in there that you think is completely wrong for me and I'll transmute it."

Cam stepped forward and perused Didi's collection of dresses. "Oh, this one—definitely. It isn't your color." He drew a gown of bright primary yellow from the closet and held it up in front of her. "It makes you look jaundiced. Why'd you buy it, anyway?"

"I didn't. Mom bought it for me the first Easter I spent with them after the divorce. I guess she thought the bright yellow would cheer me up—and it is a pretty gown. But, as you said, it's not my color. Mom realized it the minute she saw me in it, and she didn't say a thing when I never wore it again."

"Why'd you keep it?"

"Because it was a gift—and because of _why_ she gave it to me. Now I can make some good use of it. Lay it on the bed, love; then fold my wedding gown carefully and return it to the hope chest, please."

Cam followed his fiancée's instructions. "Shall I close it now?"

"Yes, please," Didi replied.

Cam did as she bade him. "Now what?"

"Now _watch_." She closed her eyes and concentrated. Moments later, the yellow gown was an exact duplicate of the gown in the projection—down to the last stitch and bead.

"Wow!" said Cam. "That's impressive!" He ran his hand over it gently. "It's beautiful!"

"Yes, it is." Didi ended the projection. She then sighed as she gazed at the replica she had just created. "Now let me see . . . How subtle shall I make the changes?" She nodded her head in a sharp affirmative, as a sound resembling "Hmp" issued from her throat. Closing her eyes again, she said aloud, "**Change this gown into the exact same shade as the gems in my engagement ring**."

Cam's eyebrows went up and his eyes opened wide. He smiled when he saw the result. "Oh, that is gorgeous! It's just barely blue! I like it. Still, isn't there a chance your mom might recognize it?"

"I'm not through yet," Didi told him. She placed her hands on the bodice of the gown with her thumbs and forefingers in an L-shape near each "corner" of the rounded neckline, gazed at it with intense concentration and said, "**Change the neckline of this gown from rounded to square, with parameters as indicated by my hands. Make it so**." The neckline reformed itself into a square, with the corners exactly where Didi's hands indicated they should be.

"No major change, but it still looks different. Anything else?" Cam asked.

Didi nodded. "A couple more things." The sleeves on the gown each ended in a point that was supposed to cover the backs of her hands, and each point had a ring attached to it that slid over the middle finger to prevent the point from curling. Closing her eyes, she said, "**Remove the rings from the ends of the sleeves and place them in the center of the bed. Cut the sleeves off an inch past the wrists—at the base of each of the palms—and give them a half-inch hem. Make it so**."

"Another minor change." Cam looked at the gown thoughtfully. "What more do you want to do with it?" he asked. "It looks great just the way it is."

"I need to change the beadwork," Didi said.

"How?"

"Just watch. If you don't like it, I can always change it back."

"Go for it. Let's have a look."

"**Transmute each bead on the gown into a sequin of the exact same size. Make the sequins half a shade bluer than the gown itself. Make it so**."

"Wow!" said Cam.

"Do the sequins make it look . . . tacky?"

"Not at all. The way the beadwork was done—and with the sequins being the same size as the beads—it actually works really well. It looks . . . chic."

Didi picked the newly-formed gown up by the hanger and studied it with a critical eye. "Is this close enough to appease you, love?" she asked Cam.

He nodded. "Yeah, it is. It's as beautiful as the original—maybe more so with the slight hint of blue. The sequins are the perfect touch." He smiled impishly. "Sure you don't wanna add a little lace?"

Didi looked at him askance. "Don't start with me, Cam!"

"Whoa! Sorry! I was just teasing. . . . You know, you're gonna need a necklace or something to wear with it. . . ."

"I didn't need a necklace with the other gown, since it has a brace neck." She sighed. "I don't know what I'll wear with this. I don't really have anything that would work well."

"I think I might have something. I'll be right back."

"Cam?"

Didi was puzzled but decided to use the time while he was gone to try the gown on. She wasn't entirely sure it would fit properly, so she figured she might as well find out and make any alterations now instead of waiting 'til her wedding day to do it. After removing her shoes, jeans and T-shirt, she slid into the gown and used her Power to get the zipper up all the way. She then looked at herself in the full-length mirror that leaned against the wall by her closet. (Cam hadn't yet had time to install it on the door.)

She caught her breath. "It really _is_ beautiful! Will Mom and the others recognize it?"

"What if they do?" Cam asked from the doorway. "If they say anything, just tell them you had it made special." He shrugged. "It's true, isn't it?"

Didi smiled and turned to face him. "Yes, I guess it is. What are you holding behind your back?"

"Something I was saving to give you on our wedding night," he replied, bringing a large jeweler's box out from behind him. "But, under the circumstances, I thought maybe I should give it to you now, so you don't go off and buy something else to wear with that gown." He held the box out. "Here," he said. "I think you'll like it."

Didi approached Cam, took the box and opened it. "Oh, Cam, it's beautiful!" She gazed at him with a light of love and wonder in her pale blue eyes. The necklace was a delicate gold chain with a filigree heart pendant, in the center of which was set a light blue sapphire, only slightly larger than the ones in the earrings he had given her on her birthday. "You got it to match the earrings, didn't you?" She leaned forward on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "You _are_ the most wonderful man in the cosmos!"

"Nothing's too good for the woman I'm going to marry," he replied. "You do deserve the best I can give you, Dee—always. Here. Let's see how it looks." He removed the necklace carefully from its box and walked around behind her while she moved her hair forward and out of the way. He latched the necklace and then walked back around to look at her from the front. He nodded. "Looks good," he said.

Didi returned to the mirror and gazed at her reflection appraisingly. "Added to the sequins, the necklace does—and the earrings will—bring out the hint of blue in the gown even more."

"That's what I figured. That's why I gave you the necklace now instead of waiting."

Didi turned back to look at Cam. "You are the most thoughtful, considerate and loving husband any woman could ask for."

"You said 'husband,'" Cam pointed out, walking up to her and standing toe-to-toe.

"I know what I said. We _both_ know what I mean. Legally married or not, in my heart you never stopped being my husband. I love you, Cameron Mitchell."

"I love you, too, Didina Steadman—my once and future wife." He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her fervently. Afterward he said, "I hope you don't believe that old superstition about it being bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her gown before the wedding, or we're gonna be in for a whole heap o' trouble."

The sardonic look on his face and the sparkle in his eyes told Didi that Cam himself didn't believe it. She guffawed lightly, shook her head and said, "I believe in God, not superstition. We'll be fine, love. Whatever comes, comes. It won't have anything to do with luck—good or bad."

"I agree completely. Now, change clothes and hang the gown up in your closet. It's time to get back to work."

While she changed clothes, Didi sent Cam to the kitchen to fetch her roll of plastic wrap. He got it, took it to her room, opened the door just a crack, and tossed it inside. Didi seldom used the wrap, so it was pretty much still full. Once she was dressed, she used her power to transmute the plastic into a protective bag exactly like the one covering the wedding gown that Cam had just recently returned to the hope chest. Then she slid the bag over the newly-formed gown and put it away in her closet—for now.

Taking what remained of the plastic wrap with her, Didi joined Cam in the kitchen. It was indeed time to get back to work.

The unpacking and organizing of everything that went into Didi's living room was completed by around nine-thirty that night, even with a dinner break taking place at six. The couple collapsed together on the sofa when they were finished, exhausted.

"Wanna go for a soak in the hot tub?" Cam asked.

"This place has a hot tub?"

"Yep. It's a really nice one, too."

"I guess that's the next best thing to being able to shower together . . . ."

". . . . which we can't do for another month."

"Unfortunately, I'm too tired to move."

"Me too," said Cam. He put a hand to Didi's cheek and smiled softly. "I love you, Dee. I wish I could hold you in bed tonight."

"So do I. But, even though I _am_ too tired to move, I don't like flirting with temptation."

"Neither do I," Cam said with a sigh. "Wha'd'ya say we just stay here for a while 'til we feel like moving again? Then I'll head home and crash."

"It's been a busy week for both of us," Didi said, "—and an exhausting one. I'd forgotten how grueling moving could be."

"Unh," Cam grunted in agreement. His head lolled back against the sofa, his eyes slowly closed, and his mouth opened slightly as he drifted off to sleep.

Didi smiled softly, lowered her head into his lap and closed her eyes, joining him in the blissful oblivion of fatigue-induced sleep.

Cam awakened at a little after three in the morning. He had shifted position and his neck hurt when he moved. "Oh, crap!" he said quietly, grabbing the painful area of his neck. Didi stirred in his lap and pushed his thigh as though it were a lumpy pillow that needed readjusting.

In spite of the pain in his neck, Cam looked down at Didi and smiled faintly—although the smile could easily have been mistaken for a grimace. _So she had fallen asleep, too, huh?—and in his lap . . . voluntarily._ It was excruciatingly painful to bend his neck, but he couldn't help it. He had to gaze at her, and that led to caressing her flawless cheek with his thumb. "I love you, Dee," he whispered.

"Mm?"

"Dee," he said more audibly, "do you think you could wake up for just a few minutes?"

"Huh?" Her eyes began to flutter, struggling to open. The lamps in the room were still on, since the couple had fallen asleep without bothering to douse them, and Didi's eyes seemed averse to being exposed to the light just yet. "It's too bright in here!" she whined. "**Dim lights by sixty percent**!"

Immediately, the lamps that were lit dimmed. "Hun," said Cam, "I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't think those light bulbs were meant to be dimmed by . . . _unnatural means_ like that."

Didi moaned and struggled to sit up. "Okay, okay!" Closing her eyes, she commanded, "**Turn off the table lamps and restore the pole lamp in the far right corner to normal brightness. Make it so**." When her request was granted, she said, "That's better!" She then turned around where she sat and sidled up next to Cam. "So, what time is it, anyway? It was going on ten o'clock when you fell asleep."

Cam looked at his watch. "It's three-twelve," he said. "I tried to change position and was very rudely awakened by a nasty crick in my neck. Do you think you could . . . fix it?"

Didi sighed and gave him a crooked smile. "Sure," she said. Turning sideways and pulling her right leg up onto the sofa, with her foot just past the edge of the cushion, she placed both hands on the back of his neck and said, "**Heal any injured or strained muscles or tendons in Cam's neck, upper back and shoulders, and remove any pain connected to those injuries. Make it so**."

"Wow!" Cam pronounced, moving his head around in circles. "That's amazing! It feels completely better." He stopped and gazed at Didi with love and gratitude. "Thanks, hun."

"Glad I could help." She stretched and yawned and got to her feet. "Oh! I think I need to repair myself a little bit, too. Falling asleep without a blanket is _never_ a good idea . . . unless the room you're in is too warm." She closed her eyes and located trouble spots within her own body, reducing the swelling and soothing the pain receptors wherever she found them. When she was finished, she smiled and said, "Ah! That's much better."

"It's a good thing you decided to keep the Power 'til after the wedding," Cam said. "Otherwise, we'd both still be in a world of hurt right now. . . ."

Didi sat down on his lap, wrapped her arms round his neck and said, "I know. Although bringing all the clones here—making them invisible to everyone but us, and then stopping time so that we can talk to them and say our final goodbyes—is going to be difficult, I really want to try to do it."

"You made that very clear when we left the hospital after visiting Jackson."

"There was a time when I didn't want the Power at all 'cause it scared me so much. But I haven't done anything really _big _with it since I went back in time to call my parents and left the message on their answering machine about my coming here on an imaginary apartment-hunting trip. Everything I've done since then has been simple—relatively speaking."

Cam smiled ironically. "Even the so-called 'simple' things were amazing to us in the beginning: teleporting, transmuting, healing . . . all those abilities that seemed so awesome back then we've started taking for granted. Most people would sell their souls for even _one_ of the powers you possess."

Didi nodded. "I know, and that's part of what scares me so much, even now. I shouldn't be taking _anything_ for granted. If it weren't for the fact that I want to see all of the other clones again one last time, I'd've gotten rid of it after I finished working on healing Daniel. As soon as the wedding's over and I've returned all of the clones to their own places in time and space, I am going to relinquish it. I really, really do want to go back to being an ordinary, everyday, regular girl."

"Dee, you might not've had the Power when we met, but even then I knew you were far from ordinary. I remember telling that to Jackson and the rest of the team—more than once."

"Yeah, I guess you did." She smiled wanly. "What I don't understand is . . . why?"

Cam smiled. "Even before your dad told me about them, I was already aware of what he calls your gifts and abilities. You're probably not aware of them yourself, but . . . just to illustrate . . . What things have changed about me since we met?"

"Well," said Didi hesitantly, "you've stopped swearing—for the most part; and you've cut back on drinking beer—mostly; and . . . your self-esteem has improved . . . I think."

"Right on all counts. That's your gift in a nutshell, Dee: without preaching a sermon, without lecturing of any kind, you make those around you want to be better people. You have this . . . quiet influence that just . . . _emanates_ from you, like an invisible light. Even though your dad was a good, upright, religious man from the get-go, you've still influenced him—albeit very subtly. But me? . . . Wow! I had a lot more to overcome than he did, and I noticed the changes almost immediately. It's a rare gift indeed, Dee, and I'm glad you have it. I'm a happier and more civilized human being, thanks to you."

Didi smiled softly. "I never realized . . . I just am who I am—no excuses and no apologies. . . . I didn't intend to try to change anybody."

"I know—which is why it's a gift. You've always had power, Dee—just not the kind that shows. You have power over the heart and soul of anyone in your sphere of influence that has the desire and the capacity to become a better person." Cam smiled wanly. "Just don't let it go to your head."

Didi shook her head. "I never could! The moment I did, I'd lose it. Now I wish you hadn't told me. I'll be aware of it from now on, and that might negate its influence."

"I hope not! Just . . . continue to be yourself, Dee. Don't change who you are just because you know about your gift now."

Didi nodded and yawned. "I'll try," she said sleepily.

Cam looked at his watch. "It's almost four. We'd better get to bed. I wanted to get up at seven and make you breakfast . . . bring it to you on a tray. I'll still try, but . . . I'm not making any promises as to when I'll actually make it. . . ."

Didi smiled. "Considering the fact that we fell asleep before ten, we've already had about five and a half hours of sleep. If we go to bed now and toss and turn for an hour we'd still get seven and a half hours of total sleep for the night. That's not so bad."

"Could you maybe . . . command that I sleep soundly until my alarm goes off at seven and that I awake refreshed and ready to go when it does?"

Didi shrugged. "I guess I could. I've never tried anything like that before, but . . . since you'll already have gotten more than half a night's sleep, it's not an unreasonable request. . . ."

"Good! Try it, then."

"I'm gonna teleport you back to your apartment first, and then I'll make the command from here. Is that all right with you?"

Cam nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

"If you don't fall asleep within half an hour's time, call me on my cell phone and tell me it didn't work. I'll see if I can come up with something else that will."

"All right. So, if you don't hear from me, you'll know I'm asleep. But, uh, could you give me a minute to get out of my clothes first?"

"Sure. I know you like to sleep in your underwear. But, before I send you off . . . ." She puckered up and pressed her lips to his. "I love you, Cameron Mitchell."

"I love you, too, Didina Steadman. Now, stand up and send me home."

"Yes, dear." She smiled and got off Cam's lap. Once he, too, was standing, she said, "**Teleport Cam to his bedroom in his own apartment**."

After he was gone, she locked her door, took her cell phone from her purse and shut off the pole lamp in the far right corner. She then commanded that the light switch in her bedroom be turned on and followed the dim light down the hall to her destination.

When she reached her bedroom, she set her cell phone on her dresser, closed her eyes and made the request Cam had asked for. As she waited to hear from him (or not), she got ready for bed. At no time did her cell phone ring. Cam must be asleep. Smiling contentedly, she knelt by her bedside, said her prayers and climbed into bed.

Didi was still sleeping soundly when her cell phone rang at eight o'clock. She woke up woozily and stumbled out of bed, trying to get to the phone. By the time she reached it the ringing had stopped, but it started up again almost immediately. "Hi, Cam," she said as she answered it.

"Hi, hun. When it went to voice mail I figured you were having trouble waking up and getting to it in time, so I thought I'd give it another try. Breakfast is just about ready. If you'll unlock your door for me, I'll bring it down. Got enough here for both of us—if you don't mind having me to breakfast."

Didi laughed. "Chef Mitchell, you are more than welcome to join me at my breakfast table this morning. I'll see you in a few minutes." She closed her phone and hurried to the living room to unlock and open her door. She then stuck her head out and looked to the right, waiting for Cam to appear. When he did, she waved. He was already fully dressed in a ratty old T-shirt and a pair of cut-offs.

Cam smiled as he made his way to her. "Here, take this," he said, handing her the tray. "I need to go back and lock my door."

Didi took the tray and carried it to the dining area, just off the kitchen. When Cam returned, he closed the door behind him and joined her at the dining table. Didi had taken the cover off the food, revealing a large platter of scrambled eggs, six strips of bacon, four sausage links, four slices of toast, a cup of coffee, and a glass of chilled orange juice. "How'd you fit all of it on this tray?" she asked, amazed.

"One of the things you develop in the military is great organizational skills. Have you got plates and silverware handy?"

Didi showed Cam in which cartons her everyday dishes and stainless steel flatware were located and he used his pocketknife to cut them open. They did a quick rinse and dry on the plates, flatware and utensils they planned to use and then sat down at the table. Cam gave Didi her glass of orange juice and took his mug of coffee from the tray. He then began dishing out the food, giving Didi first dibs.

Setting the empty tray off to the side, Cam looked across the table at Didi and waited for her to either say grace or to ask him to, since it was her home and her prerogative. She smiled and opted to do it herself, thanking the Lord for both the food and the hands that prepared it and asking a blessing on both, as well.

Cam was looking humbly thoughtful as she ended the prayer and opened her eyes. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to do that as well as you do," he said.

"You'll find your own way, love," Didi assured him. "Just say what's in your heart; that's what _I_ do."

Didi tasted the eggs. They were almost perfect. They needed just a tad more salt, but Didi wasn't that concerned. She'd made scrambled eggs herself that had less salt in them, so they were, overall, quite palatable. She did take her plate to the microwave, however, and set the timer for thirty seconds.

"Dee," Cam asked, "why are you warming it up in the microwave instead of using your Power?"

"Because it's early and I'm still tired and don't want to try to figure out how much Power to use, or how much warming to do. The food's not all that cold yet, and when I use the Power, I usually have to deal with percentages or amounts of some kind. With the microwave, I can just reheat it for thirty seconds. If it's a little too hot, I can blow on it; if it isn't hot enough, I can give it a few more seconds."

"So . . . how is it?" he asked as she removed her plate and tasted the eggs again.

"Perfect. Want me to warm yours now?"

"Please . . . if you don't mind."

"Cam, you made this breakfast—and it's awesome. Warming your food is the least I can do."

Once both plates were warm and the food ready to consume, conversation began. They talked about where they were going to put everything that was still packed in boxes. The layout of this kitchen was very different from the one in her old apartment—and it had more drawers and cupboards (including a small pantry). Thus, it took quite a bit of organizational thinking for Didi to figure out the most convenient and practical location for each item or set of items.

By the time Cam had finished his breakfast, however, Didi had a pretty good idea of where she wanted to put everything, and she had expressed her thoughts aloud to Cam as they came to her. Being thus prepared, therefore, he began unpacking boxes and putting things away, while Didi—who had never been one to "gobble" food—continued eating.

Cam had emptied two boxes by the time Didi finished. They then put their dishes and silverware into the dishwasher, and Cam put the things he had brought—including the cover—back on the tray.

"Now that I've finished breakfast," said Didi, "I'd better get dressed so I can help out in here."

"I was just going to suggest that very thing. So, while you're getting dressed, I'll take the breakfast tray back to my place and clean up the mess I made in the kitchen. I expect you to be fully clothed by the time I return."

"Don't worry, love. I will be." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "See you when you get back." He winked at her as he left the kitchen, and then she returned to her bedroom.

Because Cam took the time to wash, dry and put away all of the items he had used that weren't dishwasher-safe, Didi was not only fully clothed by the time he returned, but she was busy unpacking her good china. The china hutch was already two-thirds full when he walked into the kitchen.

"Wow! You've been a busy little bee, haven't you? I expect you'll want to continue doing the china yourself, so that nothing gets broken by my big, clumsy hands. So, what would you like _me_ to do?"

Didi had Cam open the large box that contained her cookware and showed him where she wanted him to put it and how she wanted it stacked. When he nodded and said, "Okay," Didi returned to unpacking and organizing her china.

Cam finished with the cookware in less than five minutes, so she asked him to unload the boxes of cleaning products next. Some were to go under the sink; others into the cupboards above the refrigerator and the stove. She had packed the items from each location into separate cartons, and each carton was labeled appropriately—which made things much easier for Cam.

By the time Cam had finished unloading and placing every item, the box of china was empty and the hutch was full. Didi then closed the glass-paneled doors, put her hands on her hips, and looked at her handiwork with a smile of satisfaction. All that remained to be unpacked were her good crystal, the rest of her everyday dishes, cooking utensils, small appliances, and various other odds and ends.

Within an hour and a half, every box was empty and every item suitably placed. Cam and Didi each took one of the blue plastic goblets from the cupboard, filled it with water and took a long, slow drink. They then went to the living room and collapsed onto the sofa again, although they were nowhere near as tired as they'd been the night before.

"Next order of business," said Didi wearily, "is grocery shopping. I've got to get some food into this house. I can't keep eating out and depending on you to cook for me. The few non-perishable things I brought with me won't make a complete meal—except for the microwaveable lunch items, which I only ever used on Saturdays—or when I had a day off."

"We'll go shopping in a little while," said Cam. "I just need to rest for a bit."

"'Kay," said Didi, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. As Cam kissed the top of her head and put an arm around her, she smiled and sighed contentedly. "I do love you, Cameron Mitchell, and I _still_ wouldn't trade the life we have for the lives of any other Cam and Didi in the multi-verse."

"Neither would I, hun. Neither would I."

Didi raised her head and Cam lowered his and they kissed. Sometimes all it took to reaffirm their love for and their commitment to one another was a moment like this. Didi's hand reached for Cam's cheek as her eyes gazed into his, and she said, "Whenever I'm with you, I feel so blessed!"

"I feel the same way, hun. We've _both _been blessed: with the right to live, _and_ the right to love each other for as _long_ as we live." He kissed her again and asked, "Are you ready to go now?"

She nodded. "I think so." She sat upright; then he stood up and pulled her to her feet. She kissed him on the chin. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Cam, and I hope I never have to find out."

"That goes double for me, Dee," Cam replied, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her once more. "Let's go. I need some groceries, too."

They did their shopping together and Cam insisted on paying for all of it. "We're engaged and we're going to be married soon, Dee," he said. "We'll be sharing pretty much everything from here on out, even if we are living in separate apartments. We'll eat at my place some of the time and at your place other times. It'll be share and share alike."

When they returned to the Grenadier Arms after an hour of shopping, they each took their groceries to their respective apartments. After Didi had put all of hers away, she called Cam on her cell phone to find out if he had finished with his.

"Yeah," he told her. "I was just talking to my parents. They called to find out if we'd gotten you all settled in yet."

"Oh!" Didi said. "How are they doing?"

"They're doing all right. Dad's just been really tired lately."

"I hope there's nothing wrong. . . ."

"Well," said Cam, "if there is, he'll get feeling worse and then we'll find out about it. If that happens—"

"I could check him out and see if God will allow me to heal him. In fact, I could do it now. . . ."

"Nah," said Cam. "Let's wait a while. Sometimes he doesn't sleep well, so he gets tired. And he overdoes it a lot when I'm not there to help. Let's just give it some time. There's no need to assume the worst—not yet, anyway."

"All right. Whatever you think is best, love."

"Are you ready for lunch?"

"Could we go to Wendy's again?"

"Why not? I'll even get you a Frosty for dessert."

"I love you," Didi said with grateful fondness. "I'll be right over."

They closed their phones. Didi grabbed her purse, left her apartment and locked her door.

Wanting to talk privately, they got their food to go and went back to Cam's apartment with it. As they ate, Didi asked, "Any word on how Daniel's progressing? Did my low-level healing help at all?"

"Last I heard, the doctors had moved his projected recovery up about a week, so, yeah—it helped a lot."

Didi smiled. "Good. I'm glad."

"You did really well, interacting with him while we were at the hospital. He has no idea you're not the Didi he met on PX5 452."

"Considering the fact that she was with SG-1 for less than twenty-four hours, he didn't really get to know her all that well. But we Didis do tend to get attached to people, so I figured it would be all right to express some degree of caring and concern. While we're on the subject of Daniel . . . Did he, by any chance, tell Sam and Vala about us?"

"As far as I know, they haven't been back to see him again yet. If he had told them about us, I expect they would've dropped by to see you and take a look at that ring."

"Probably. Cam . . ."

"Yes, Dee?"

"I really hope your dad isn't ill."

"So do I, but . . . honestly, hun, I don't wanna think about that right now. Could we please change the subject?"

"Of course; I'm sorry, love. I guess I'll contact Daniel now and see if he's willing to help me to bring the other clones here for the wedding."

"Go ahead. While you're doing that, I'll take a little nap. After I wake up, we'll go back to your place and I'll hang your mirrors and pictures and stuff for you."

Didi smiled. "Thanks, love. Go ahead and sleep."

When Didi contacted Daniel, she asked him if he could meet her somewhere outside the Abydonian village, so they could talk face to face. He agreed and made his excuses to Sha're. Shortly thereafter he contacted Didi again and told her he was ready. _"Just ask to be teleported to where I am,"_ he told her.

A few moments later, she was there—on Abydos—standing face to face with Daniel. She smiled, wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big hug. "It's wonderful to see you, Daniel," she told him.

After she released him, he gazed down at her and smiled back. "It's good to see you, too, Didi. How's everything going?"

She showed him her engagement ring (with which he was duly impressed); told him all about the move and about what she and Cam had been up to over the past few days; and about the trouble his double in their universe had gotten into with Dr. McKay. He wondered whether his original had suffered the same fate.

"You could always take a look and see," said Didi. "All you'd have to do is ask to be shone what he's doing or where he is."

"Maybe I'll do that later. I don't have a lot of time. If I'm gone too long, Sha're will get concerned and send out a search party. So . . . you wanted to talk to me about getting everybody to the wedding, huh?"

Didi nodded. "Yes. We're getting married at two o'clock on Saturday, November first—which is, of course, the day after Halloween. We'll be flying to Kansas as soon as we both get home from work on Friday night, so we're going to be short on time." She then told Daniel her plan and he agreed to help her with it.

"In fact," he said, "why don't you let me handle the whole thing? You'll have enough to do just getting ready for the wedding itself. And, from the sound of it, you're not going to have a large window of opportunity."

"So . . . what're you going to do, then?"

"I'll talk to each of them—even if I have to visit them in person to do it—and find out first of all whether or not they're interested in attending. If they say 'yes,' I'll tell them to keep Saturday, November first, at two o'clock open, and I'll tell them that if they have prior engagements or other people in their lives who might want to know where they're going (as Sam and Vala probably do), they should excuse themselves for about an hour. A few minutes before two, I'll teleport them to an empty room somewhere in the church itself, cloak all of us and put a silence barrier around us. But I'll include a parameter that'll not only allow _you and Mitchell _to see us and hear us—as you suggested—but one that will allow us to see and hear _each other_ as well." He smiled wanly. "I'm sure you would've included that, but you obviously hadn't completely fleshed out the details yet."

"No, I hadn't. That's one of the reasons I decided to contact you: so that we could iron out those pesky little details in advance. . . . So, what if there isn't an empty room anywhere in the church house? What if the chapel is all there is?"

"Then I'll teleport them, one by one, to someplace outside this village and cloak them here. Once we're all cloaked and silenced, I'll teleport us to the church. Just be sure and let me know ahead of time the name or the address of the church so I can get it right."

"You could just ask to be teleported to the church where Cam and I are getting married. . . ."

"Yeah, I guess I could at that. Thanks for the tip."

"I know it's really complicated, Daniel, and that I'm asking a lot, but . . . I really do wanna see all of you again, and sharing the most important day of our lives with you means a lot to both Cam and me."

"Are you going to be hurt if some of them decide not to come?"

"Maybe a little, but they have their own lives now; I'll understand if they can't get away. But, if anyone's missing, I'm gonna give them a dream of the wedding later that night. It'll seem totally real, as if they were actually there, and they'll remember every detail when they wake up on Sunday morning."

"So, they'll be able to witness the wedding whether they can actually be there or not."

"Yes. I just want them there because I miss them, and I'd like this last opportunity to say goodbye, since I'll be relinquishing the Power afterward. If someone doesn't show, I'll keep it long enough to program the dream for them, but that's the last thing I'll do with it."

"Let me know if you need anything else before then," Daniel said. "But for now, I'd better head back. I've been gone too long." He leaned down and kissed Didi on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Ms. Steadman, and don't ever let Mitchell take you for granted."

"He won't," said Didi with a soft smile. "He's waited too long to find me. Goodbye, Daniel. I'll see you in about twenty-nine days." She closed her eyes and disappeared.

The pictures, mirrors, various calendars and other items were all hung after Cam awakened later, and while he worked, Didi told him about her visit with Daniel and all that he had promised to do.

When the job was done and they took some time to rest on Didi's sofa again, her cell phone rang.

"Hi, Mom," Didi said. "How's everything going?"

"Dina dear, I forgot to mention this before, but . . . we really need the names and addresses of whatever friends and co-workers you'd like to invite to the reception—the ones that we don't know personally. If you and Cameron could get that information for us and then either FAX it or send it overnight express—along with the photos after you have them taken—Wendy and I would greatly appreciate it."

Didi sighed. "We'll take care of it as soon as we can, Mom. Cam just finished hanging things for me on my walls, now that all the unpacking's finally done. It's been a long three days, and we're both bushed. We'll send you the names and addresses—and the photos—as soon as we can, I promise. Right now, though, we need to go get dinner."

"All right, dear. I won't keep you, then. Have a good evening."

"You, too, Mom—and give Dad our love. Bye." She closed her phone.

"Let's order pizza," said Cam right away. "I'm too tired to go out again."

Didi nodded. "So am I. You want a stuffed crust, three-meat pizza?"

"Yeah, and you undoubtedly want Canadian bacon. How about we get a large with half of each?" Cam queried.

"Sounds good to me. What's the number?"

"I'll call," said Cam. "I got it memorized."

Didi smiled. "That doesn't surprise me." She handed him her cell phone.

Cam made the call and ordered the pizza. While they were waiting for it to arrive, they put in the DVD of _LeMans_.

Didi paused the movie when the pizza arrived, and Cam paid for it. The pizza delivery boy, apparently well acquainted with Cam, asked, "So, uh, Colonel Mitchell . . . how come you're here instead of at your own apartment?"

"Because, Travis, my fiancée just moved into this apartment and I've spent the last couple of days helping her to get settled. Any more questions and I'll dock your tip."

"Sorry, Colonel. I was just surprised. I knew Mr. Compton was moving out—he told me. But I had no idea who was moving in. Congratulations on your engagement, then. Sorry to've bothered you."

"G'night, Travis. We'll probably be seeing you again sometime in the future."

"G'night, Colonel," said Travis. He then leaned over a little and yelled past Cam, "Welcome to the building, ma'am. I hope I get the chance to meet you some . . . time."

Didi had arrived at the door. She smiled softly at the young man. "Thank you, Travis," she said. "You can call me Miss Steadman—for now, anyway. The colonel and I are getting married on November first. After that, I'll be Mrs. Mitchell, and I'll be moving into his apartment down the hall."

"Yes, ma'am. It's nice to've met you." He looked at Cam with admiration. "I know I might be out of line, Colonel, but . . . you're a very lucky man to have a lady that pretty and that nice."

"I'm very well aware of that, Travis. Now, if you don't mind, Miss Steadman and I would like to get on with the business of eating this pizza before it gets cold."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, Colonel. Good night. Enjoy your pizza."

Cam shook his head as he closed the door. "Kids!"

"He's a teenaged boy," Didi said. "If he's been delivering pizza to you for any length of time at all, he's gotta be curious. I just thought it'd be easier to satisfy his curiosity now rather than later."

"I suppose. Now, let's eat this thing, shall we?"

When they'd eaten their fill and the movie was over, Didi put what remained of the pizza into a large zipper bag so that Cam could take it home with him. She'd never been one for leftover pizza. Cam admitted that he practically lived on it when he was cramming at the Academy.

They spent some time after that talking quietly, laughing a little and kissing a lot. When Cam's watch alarm went off at ten, he decided he'd better head home. "I know we used to stay together until eleven or even midnight before, but . . . it has been a long couple of days and I'm bushed."

Didi nodded. "I know; me too. Tomorrow's Saturday and I've gotta do laundry. Since I'm starting work on Monday, it's the only chance I'll have to do it."

"Seeing as how you don't work on Sundays. . . ."

"It's the Fourth Commandment: 'Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.'"

Cam sighed. "I've still got a lot to learn. I'll bet you know the numbers of all ten, don't you?"

Didi tipped her head to one side. "Maybe . . ."

Cam laughed lightly and gave her a noogy, then rose to his feet and pulled her to hers.

They held hands as she walked him to the door. He then wrapped his arms around her for a final good night kiss. "We'll do our laundry together tomorrow, and I'll call around between wash loads—try to find a photographer who's willing to squeeze us in ASAP. I don't wanna keep our mothers waiting any longer than necessary."

"I agree completely," said Didi; then, "Good night, love," she added as Cam opened the door and caressed her cheek. After he left, Didi closed the door behind him and sighed. It was going to be a long four weeks. . . .


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41: THE PASSAGE OF TIME

The next day, Cam made phone calls between wash loads as planned and finally found a photographer who was willing to photograph them that very afternoon and guaranteed that he'd have the pictures on a photo CD, ready for approval by Monday morning—for a price . . . which Cam gladly paid: it was better than incurring the displeasure of his future mother-in-law.

When the photos were taken, Cam wore his usual uniform—which was referred to by those in the Air Force as the "Mess Uniform." The designation puzzled Didi, and Cam didn't even try to explain why it was called that. Didi wore the dress that she'd worn to church on the twenty-first—the one that was the same color as the earrings Cam had given her for her "birthday"—and she wore the earrings with it.

The next day, Sunday, while Cam and Didi were having brunch together in Cam's apartment after having attended the morning service at the nearest church of Didi's preferred denomination, Cam's doorbell sounded. "I wonder who that could be," Cam said with a puzzled look on his face.

"One of the team, maybe?" Didi said.

"Wait here and I'll go see," said Cam, wiping his mouth with a napkin and throwing it onto the table as he got to his feet.

Didi listened raptly as Cam opened the door and said, "General O'Neill! What brings you here, sir? Am I . . . getting reassigned or something?"

"At ease, Colonel! No, you're not getting reassigned. I just wanted to meet your fiancée. I went to her place, but when I didn't get an answer, I figured she was probably here. Am I wrong?"

"No, sir; she's here. Come on in."

He was about to call for Didi, but, having heard the conversation, she exited the dining room on her own and entered the living room with a soft smile on her face. "Hello, General O'Neill. I've been looking forward to meeting you. I just didn't think I'd have the privilege before the wedding reception."

"Oh. So I am invited, then . . .?"

"Yes, sir, you are," Cam stated. "Please . . . come in and sit down." He indicated the armchair to the left of the coffee table.

"Was I interrupting something?" General O'Neill asked as he took his designated seat.

"Just brunch," said Didi offhandedly as she sat down on the sofa. "It'll keep."

"I'd heard you were uncompromisingly honest, Ms. Steadman," said the general. "I'm glad to know I wasn't misinformed."

Cam sat down next to Didi and smiled at their Very Important Visitor. "Was it General Landry who told you that, sir?" he asked.

"It might've been . . . or it could've been Dr. Jackson. My memory isn't entirely clear on that score. . . ."

"So, General," said Didi, "did you come out of concern?—or merely out of curiosity?"

"Maybe a little of both."

"If you're worried that, because of me, Cam might decide to resign his commission or ask for reassignment, don't be: Cam's not ready to give up 'gate travel just yet, and I'm not about to ask him to. He's only been at it for a few years, and he's enjoying it—in spite of how dangerous it is. In fact, I think he thrives on the danger."

"Yeah, we Air Force pilots tend to be a rather reckless lot; but that's part of what makes us good pilots," said the general.

"I'm sure it is. General, if you have any questions you'd like to ask me . . . if there are things you feel you'd like to know about me that might put your mind at ease, please . . . feel free. Cam and I have already been through some of the toughest interrogations imaginable—administered by our own parents. No one was ready for us to get engaged as soon as we did—no one but _us_, anyway."

"I'm not concerned about your engagement or how soon the two of you plan to marry; it's really none of my business. But, yes, you're right: I was concerned that Colonel Mitchell's marrying you might affect his plans for the future, career-wise. Colonel?"

"You know I've always preferred working with the original SG-1, sir," said Cam. "They're the best people on the planet. It was tough enough the first time around to get them all back together, and I'm pretty sure it was fate and happenstance that brought it about. But, ever since Carter went to Atlantis, the team's been fragmented; there hasn't actually been a bona fide SG-1."

Cam then went on to tell Gen. O'Neill the same things he had told Didi previously—including his desire to choose his own team members from the best the SGC had to offer. He then expressed his hope that Gen. Landry would agree.

"I'm sure he will," said General O'Neill. "I know_ I_ do. I'll talk to Hank about it tomorrow and we'll make it official. Then, after you've picked your new team, the other team leaders will have to find replacements for the people you take from them. They won't be happy, but . . . oh well. You can't please all of the people all of the time, and, having been team leader of SG-1 myself for a number of years, I know how important it is to have the best people watching your back and making sure you come back alive—or get rescued if you wind up captured. I'm sure just about anyone who's not a team leader would be honored to be a part of SG-1 and to serve with you, Colonel Mitchell."

"Thank you, sir; I appreciate your vote of confidence."

Gen. O'Neill got to his feet. "Are you all right with this decision, Ms. Steadman?"

Didi nodded. "Yes, sir, I am. I want Cam to be happy, and—for the time being—he still wants to be team leader of SG-1 and continue going through the 'gate. I plan to be supportive of him in every decision he makes because I know he'll consider each and every one carefully before making up his mind—especially since we'll be getting married soon. Whatever Cam decides to do for the rest of his life will affect_ both_ of us, and he's well aware of that. But, since his happiness is of paramount importance to me, I'll stand _behind_ every decision he makes, and stand _beside_ him through whatever consequences those decisions might bring. I love him, General O'Neill—through thick and thin and everything in between."

Gen. O'Neill looked at Cam and said, "You're a very lucky man, Colonel Mitchell, to've found a woman like this; I congratulate you. You're also fortunate in the fact that she knows about the Stargate, however painfully that knowledge may've come to her. You can discuss your job with her. Not many of us connected with the SGC can confide in those closest to us.

"Well," he said, holding out his hand, "good luck, Colonel. I expect I'll see you around the SGC from time to time. And as for you, Ms. Steadman . . . I know you'll take good care of our boy. My best wishes to you both . . . and I'll be at your reception—count on it. . . .Unless, of course, the world comes to an end . . . or . . . another nasty, super-powerful alien race decides to pay us a visit and tries to conquer us, or . . . something. Anyway, have a nice day—and a nice life."

Didi tried to hide her smile. Cam, having had more experience dealing with the general, simply shook his hand and said, "Thank you, sir. And thanks for stopping by."

After Jack O'Neill had gone, Didi giggled. "It's hard to believe he's a general."

"He likes you, though," Cam opined.

"I like him, too. It's just that . . . in every holographic projection I saw of him, he was all business. He was when he first arrived here, too. But, just as he was saying goodbye, he broke down and got silly. Is he always like that?"

"On occasion, yeah. It's like Jackson said: when he's not in command mode, he's a fun guy to be around. Unfortunately, I've never had the opportunity to associate with him on a daily basis the way the others have, so I don't know that side of him as well. But I have seen it from time to time."

"Well, let's get back to eating, shall we?"

"We shall." Cam held out his arm and ushered Didi into the dining room ahead of him.

The remainder of that first Sunday passed without incident, as Cam and Didi made out their lists of people to be invited to the reception and then spent the evening watching a movie on TV.

The photo CD was ready by Monday morning as promised, and Cam asked for and received permission from Gen. Landry to pick it up, as Didi wasn't familiar enough with the city yet to find her way to the photographer's studio on her own. Once Cam had the CD in hand, he put it (along with the lists of names and addresses he and Didi had made) into a bubble envelope, which he took to the post office. He then sent the envelope to the Steadmans by overnight express. Their parents would choose which poses they liked best and would then have sufficient copies printed for both the invitations and newspaper announcements.

Didi began work at Eddie's office at ten o'clock on Monday morning. She learned the lay of the land—and the methods her cousin preferred to use in dealing with customers—pretty quickly. Her years of experience were a great asset to him, since he was just getting started on his own after being in a partnership for ten years.

On Wednesday morning Didi was startled to find that their first customer was none other than Dr. Daniel Jackson. He had evidently made the appointment shortly after his release from the hospital, while Eddie was still in the process of getting organized and had temps manning the appointment desk.

"Daniel!" she exclaimed when he came in, still limping a bit. She jumped up from her chair and went around the desk to give him a hug—very gently, of course. "How are you?" she asked.

"Better. Still sore, but . . . I'm on the mend. Thanks for asking. So . . . do I have to fill out some paperwork before I see your cousin?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you do. Once you fill it out, though, as long as nothing changes, you won't have to redo it next year."

"You mean, as long as my address, my employer and my insurance don't change."

"Pretty much, yeah," Didi replied, nodding.

"Okay." He picked up the clipboard—which had a pen with it—and sat down to fill it out, while Didi returned to her seat behind the reception desk.

"Didi," said Eddie, "when's our first . . . Oh! He's here." Eddie entered the reception area and held out his hand. "I'm Dr. Eddie Grant; and you are . . .?"

"He's Dr. Daniel Jackson," Didi supplied. "He's a colleague of Cam's."

"Really?" Eddie's eyebrows went up. "You work with Cam Mitchell at Cheyenne Mountain?"

"From time to time, yes, I do," Daniel replied, taking Eddie's hand. "It's good to meet you."

"Likewise. Soon as you finish filling out the paperwork, come on back; Didi'll show you where."

"All right; thanks."

As Didi perused the computer, she noticed that there were a couple of other names from the SGC that she recognized. "What'd you do, Daniel?—ask everyone you know inside the Mountain who wears glasses or contact lenses to come here?"

"Pretty much, yeah. We all wanna be supportive of you and Mitchell. It's the least we can do—as friends and colleagues."

Didi smiled softly. "Thank you, Daniel. That means a lot."

Daniel smiled back. "You're welcome. Now . . . I'd better get back to finishing this paperwork."

On Thursday, Didi received an advance copy of their wedding announcement in the mail—along with the photograph—and showed it to Cam that night at dinner. They both approved it; Didi then called her mother to tell her so. She also told her that she would be putting the announcement in her scrapbook. The wedding announcement was also an invitation to the reception. It simply stated that Cam and Didi were getting married on Saturday, November first, but not where or when. Then the recipient was invited to attend a reception in their honor. The time and location were given, and a "no gifts, please" note was added to the bottom. Everyone who was invited to the actual wedding ceremony had been contacted personally or by telephone, eliminating the need for a separate invitation for them, and they, too, would receive an announcement/invitation to the reception.

Although each ensuing day (individually) seemed to pass very slowly, before Cam and Didi knew it, the end of the month was approaching. They spent every evening after work during the last week of October moving Didi's things out of her apartment and into Cam's—or into a rented storage facility, as they had discussed previously. A few people from the SGC who were available came to assist with the moving each night, so it got done more quickly and easily than they had anticipated, saving them a lot of stress and frayed nerves.

Since Didi would be living with Cam from the moment they returned to Colorado Springs on Sunday night, she had to have everything out of her apartment before they left on Friday. She planned to spend Thursday night in a sleeping bag on an air mattress on her living room floor. Except for what she would be wearing tomorrow and the clothes she was taking on the trip, everything else was already gone.

"We're flying to Topeka tomorrow evening, right after you get home," Cam reminded Didi as he held her on his lap that night, "so you're going to have to bring the sleeping bag and stuff to my place before you leave for work in the morning."

"All right," Didi agreed, nodding. "You can just put them with all of your camping gear for the time being, and we can find a permanent place for them later."

"Yes, we can. . . .You know, I'm a little nervous about this whole . . . wedding thing."

"Me too," Didi admitted with a reluctant smile. "I'm so afraid something'll go wrong and everything will fall apart. I don't know why. It's not as if it's gonna be a big to-do like my first wedding was."

"I think every couple that's about to get married feels this way. You want everything to be perfect, but it seldom is. Anyway, it doesn't really matter. If Murphy's Law is in effect—if everything that _can_ go wrong _does_ go wrong—we'll deal with it. One way or another, we'll be getting married on Saturday, and nothing and no one will ever separate us again."

"I love you, Colonel Mitchell." She kissed him warmly and nestled against him, allowing him to just hold her, drawing strength and comfort from being wrapped in his arms.

After Cam left for his own apartment later that night, Didi packed her bags.

Cam figured he'd have a couple of hours from the time _he_ got home until the time _Didi_ got home to do his own packing on Friday, so he went to bed early Thursday night, tossing and turning and staring at the ceiling for three and a half hours before he was finally able to drift into a restless sleep.

On Friday, Cam went off world with his new team: a stellar group that both General O'Neill and General Landry had approved for him. Since it was the day before Cam's wedding, Gen. Landry had sent them to an uninhabited world that held much in the way of Ancient ruins to explore. The young man who was Daniel's replacement took photographs and did rubbings, planning to show them all to Daniel later.

Didi, meanwhile, was taken to lunch at the SGC by Sam and Vala. (Sam had decided to return to the SGC to do research, and Vala was still working at the café.) They discussed the upcoming wedding and the reception. Both ladies promised to be at the latter and said that they actually had dates. Didi was glad to hear it. She was looking forward to seeing who her two new friends would have for escorts.

When they had finished eating, Didi discovered why Sam and Vala had insisted on having lunch at the SGC: each of them presented Didi with a gift that should _not_ be seen in public. (Since they were well aware that she didn't really need anything, they opted to give her token gifts that would serve as reminders of the time she had spent with them on PX5 452.) Vala gave her an SG-1 patch, which Didi was glad to receive, especially since Cam had promised to give her one but had never gotten around to it. Sam gave her a mock-up of the Chak-tuk elders' staff, saying that she had made it herself from various materials she had sitting around in her lab at the SGC. The bulbous tip of the rod was, not surprisingly, a white, opaque outdoor Christmas light. Sam had installed a battery-operated thumb switch that caused the bulb to light up when activated.

Didi slid the patch into her purse and the rod was carefully wrapped in brown paper. She hugged both Sam and Vala before she left and smiled. Maybe they'd be a part of her life after all. . . .

As she road the elevator up to ground level afterward, she found herself thinking, _If I'd had this thing earlier, I could've used it the same way the Chak-tuk elders did. And I wouldn't've needed to flip the thumb switch to make it light up, either._ She smiled at the thought.

Since Didi was getting married the next day, Eddie told her she could leave at five, and she subsequently informed Cam of that fact. Therefore, because she had a ways farther to drive to get home than he did, he was waiting for her when she reached the third floor, holding an already-cooked corn dog in his hand. "I thought you might like to eat on the way to the airport. The parents might take us out for a bite, but . . . I expect you're hungry now."

Didi nodded. "Yes, I am. Thanks, love." She took the corn dog in one hand, unlocked her door with the other and went inside to get her luggage. She also removed her cell phone charger from its wall socket and shoved it into her purse. "Let's go," she said as she locked the door behind her. She turned in her keys at the office on their way out of the complex.

Cam left his SUV at the airport, already knowing how much it would cost to park it for two days, since he'd done it so many times before.

Their flight arrived in Topeka a little after nine p.m., and both sets of parents were there to meet them. After warm greetings, with hugs and kisses all around, they went to find their luggage. Greg took charge of his daughter's luggage, while Cam carried his own.

"Where's your gown, dear?" Melinda asked as they headed toward the terminal exit.

"In my suitcase," Didi told her. "I didn't want to pack it around. It's too long and cumbersome."

"But what if it gets wrinkled?"

"Don't worry about it, Mom. I was very careful when I folded it. It shouldn't have more than one crease, right across the middle. We could probably steam it out if we need to."

"Your dress uniform is no doubt in your suitcase as well, Cameron," deduced Frank as the three couples crossed the parking lot to where Greg had parked his Lincoln Town Car.

"Yes, it is," said Cam. "And I'm not worried about _it_ getting wrinkled, either."

Greg placed the luggage carefully into the trunk and then took the group to the best steakhouse in Topeka. Since Greg was doing the driving, Frank Mitchell chose to do the paying—the arrangement having been agreed upon in advance by both men.

The ladies considered it too late at night to eat a large meal and so opted for salads, while the men filled their plates and their bellies with complete dinners—including soup, salad and dessert.

As they ate, the men conversed in one group while the women chatted in another. And, although Didi paid attention to what both mothers were saying and frequently contributed a comment to keep the conversational ball rolling, she occasionally stole a furtive glance at Frank. He did indeed appear unwell. His color was ashen-gray and he looked as though he had lost weight. _I've got to try to heal him tonight_, she decided. _I want him to be well for the wedding tomorrow. He looks so weak and drawn. . . ._

It was going on eleven by the time the men had eaten their fill and were ready to leave. Wendy had left her car parked in front of the Steadmans' house. Cam took the keys from her and transferred his luggage from Greg's car to his mother's.

While Greg and Wendy helped Frank into the passenger's side of the front seat, Cam gazed into Didi's eyes, caressed her cheek with his thumb and gave her a fervent kiss good night. "I love you, Dee," he whispered. "I probably won't see you again before the wedding tomorrow, but—"

"Yes, you will," Didi whispered back. She moved in closer, causing him to move his right hand from her cheek to the back of her head, while his left hand rested gently on her shoulder. Laying her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his trunk, she sent to him, _"I'm going to try to heal your dad tonight. He looks awful, Cam. I'll teleport to your room and go to him from there. Wait up for me." _

As she raised her head and pulled back a little, Cam nodded almost imperceptibly, a worried look in his eyes. "All right," he whispered.

"Good night, Cam. I love you. I'll see you . . . when I see you."

He brushed his lips against hers one last time, then slowly withdrew from her and turned away.

The Steadmans stood on the front porch and waved as Cam got behind the wheel of his mother's car and took his parents home to Auburn.

Once they were inside the house, Didi was instructed by her mother to unpack her bags immediately so that her gown wouldn't acquire any more wrinkles than it already had.

As she unpacked the gown, Didi mentally commanded that all creases and wrinkles be smoothed out as soon as it was hung in the closet. She then commanded the same thing for Cam's uniform, just in case it needed it, too.

When Melinda saw how perfectly smooth and wrinkle-free the gown was, she was amazed. "You really _must_ have taken good care of it when you packed it," she said. "I've never seen anything come out of a suitcase looking this good! And it's so _beautiful!_ It reminds me, somehow, of that _other_ gown—the one you _didn't_ wear when you got married the first time."

"It's supposed to," said Didi. "I had it made special to _resemble_ the other gown without actually _duplicating_ it. And Cam likes the hint of blue it has in it."

"Yes; I like it, too," said Melinda. "Cameron has a good eye."

After everything was unpacked and either hung up in the closet or folded and placed in a drawer, Didi went to kiss her parents good night. She then put on pajamas, placed a holographic image of herself asleep in her bed, and teleported to Cam's bedroom at the farm. He was waiting for her when she arrived, sitting on the edge of his bed in his boxers and T-shirt. The bedside table lamp, which had a three-way light bulb, was on its lowest setting.

"Dee. . . ." Cam jumped up and grabbed her, kissing her and holding her close. When at last he released her, he said, "He really is sick, isn't he? I've never seen him look worse—not even right after the accident."

"Yes, Cam, I think he's really sick," she said. "Before I relinquish the Power, I want to help him if I can—if I _may_. Aside from healing whatever's majorly wrong with him, I'd like to relieve some of his pain . . . heal any effects of aging or other conditions he might have that he's not aware of yet."

"Like what?"

"I don't know . . . diabetes . . . heart disease . . . arthritis . . . bursitis. . . . There could be any number of things wrong with him that aren't obvious—even to a trained medical professional. I just need to hold his hand or touch his arm or something; then I could make an assessment and determine whether there's anything I can do."

"If it's cancer or something . . . if it's bad . . ."

"I'll pray about it before I do anything. If I'm told to do nothing except ease the pain, that's all I'll do. I won't prolong his life without permission."

Cam nodded. "Do it—as soon as Mom and Dad are both asleep. If you find something and God lets you heal him, tell me about it afterward, before you head back home. I'd like to know so that I can sleep well tonight. If he's going to die . . . ." His voice trailed off and there were tears in his eyes.

Didi nodded. "I understand, Cam. I hope that, whatever it is, the Lord will let me heal him."

"So do I. Let's take a look and see if he and Mom are still up."

"Good idea." Didi brought up a holographic projection and found Frank and Wendy still awake and conversing with each other in quiet tones. She quickly ended the projection. "**Have Cam's watch alarm beep twice as soon as both of his parents are sound asleep. Make it so**."

"Now what?" Cam asked, sitting back in his chair.

"I want to have a conversation with Daniel. I'd like to find out whether the other clones are coming to the wedding tomorrow or not."

"All right, go ahead. Let me know what you find out when you're done."

Didi nodded and closed her eyes to concentrate. _"Daniel,"_ she sent to him, _"it's Didi_. _Is anyone besides you coming to the wedding?"_

"_Teal'c and I are coming for sure. Sam and Vala said they would if I could return them to their respective locations at the exact moment they left, so that their significant others won't know they were gone. Neither of them wants to lie about where they're going or where they've been."_

"_Understandable. It's one thing to fabricate a cover story when you're doing covert ops stuff for the government; but for _**personal**_ reasons? . . . That's not quite so easy."_

"_Yeah, you should know. You've done enough of that since you arrived in your new life."_

"_It's mostly been a matter of choosing my words carefully. Cam and I have both tried to avoid flat-out lying as much as possible when dealing with friends and family—especially our parents."_

"_So, what's the plan, then? Do you want us there a little bit early? Would you like us to stay for a few minutes afterward . . .?"_

"_Right about the time Cam and I are kissing, I'm going to freeze time for everyone but the six of us. That'll give us a chance to talk, to hug, to say goodbye . . . ."_

"_Best not keep time frozen for very long, though. You never know what kind of long-range effect that might have on the world or on time in general."_

"_I know. As far as I was able to tell, however, when I froze time while helping Teal'c get situated into his new life, there were no lasting negative effects. You might ask him about that, though, just to be on the safe side. If there _**were**_ effects, I need to know about it so I can come up with a different plan."_

"_All right. I'll ask him and then get back to you about it sometime tomorrow morning."_

"_Good. I'll talk to you then. Good night, Daniel."_

"_G'night, Didi. Sleep well."_

After finishing her telepathic conversation with Daniel, Didi told Cam what she had learned. She then said, "Cam . . ."

"Yes, hun?"

"While we're waiting for your parents to go to sleep, I'm going to pay a visit to my original."

Cam's eyes opened wider and he looked at her questioningly. "Why, Dee? What're you going to do?"

Gazing into his eyes, she replied, "Heal her—so _she_ can have children, too."

"Dee . . ."

"I know what you're thinking, Cam," she said, turning away and pacing the floor. Then, stopping and facing him again, she added, "but this is something I have to do."

"Why, hun? Why do you feel the need to heal her?"

"Because I came from her, Cam. I was a part of her. I could go around and heal every Didi in the multi-verse, but I don't want to. They don't matter all that much to me. But _she _does. In a sense, she's more my mother than my _mom_ is. (What I feel for Mom is a result of _her _memories and the fact that this world's version of my mom is so much like _hers_—the mom I remember.) Whether she knows it or not, my original gave me life. I hate the thought that I could be the only thing she _ever_ gives life to. . . . She's already met your original. We know they've hit it off and started dating. . . . Maybe they'll even _get married_, like us. Since we were a part of them, I feel like we owe them something. Giving them the ability to have children together is the least I can do to thank them for giving us life."

A faint smile touched Cam's lips and his eyes were alight with love. He got up, approached Didi, caressed her cheek and said, "You're a remarkable woman, Didina Steadman. If my original _doesn't _fall in love with yours and do the honorable and sensible thing and marry her, he's a fool."

"Since you came from him, I doubt very much that he is," Didi replied with a soft smile. "Would you like to take a look? I know that, back on Planet Max, we decided that what happened between them was irrelevant, but—"

"That was while we were still trying to figure things out," Cam reminded her. "We didn't know what our _own_ future held, so theirs was irrelevant _at the time_, although we did take a look far enough into the future to see that they were _dating_. But now . . . since you're so determined to repay your original for the gift of your existence, why don't we look and see if there's even a _reason_ for you to do it?"

Didi nodded and enunciated, "**If it exists in futurity, show us the wedding of our originals**."

"Wow!" said Cam when the holographic projection appeared. "Looks like they're doing it the same way _we_ are: a small church wedding, with just close family invited."

Didi smiled. "The important thing is, they _are_ getting married—probably not as _soon_ as we are, since they're going to have to go through the whole dating process before he decides to propose; but . . . at least we know it's going to happen."

"Then do it, Dee—if you get permission."

She nodded. "I already did. I prayed about it on the flight here. Since I'm planning to relinquish the Power after the wedding, this will be the last chance I'll have to do this."

"And God said 'yes'?"

She nodded again. "I've had a feeling all along that she and I have similar destinies ahead of us."

"Including having children with your respective Cameron Mitchells."

"Indeed. What more could either of us ask for?"

"I love you, Dee."

Didi stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "I love you, too, Cam. Now, I really should go. Your parents will be going to sleep soon, and _we_ need to get some sleep, too."

"Yeah, we do. So hurry back."

"I will," Didi replied. Then she cloaked herself, put up a silence barrier and teleported to the bedroom of her original—the woman from whose DNA she had been created.

Kneeling beside the bed, she held her hands above the covers in the general vicinity of the other Didi's abdomen, closed her eyes and concentrated. Finding the problem area, she repaired it, just as Gor-lak had done to her. Then she opened her eyes and smiled. "Have a good life," she whispered, although the silence barrier prevented the sound from reaching the other Didi's ears. Nevertheless, she continued, "I know you and Cam will be incredibly happy together." Then she teleported back to Cam's bedroom at the farm, while simultaneously uncloaking and un-silencing herself.

"How'd it go?" he asked quietly.

"Fine," she said with a smile. "I just wish I could see the look of surprise on her face when she finds out she's pregnant." She sighed. "But there's no time for that now."

She then brought up another holographic projection of Cam's parents. The watch alarm beeped at the exact same moment. She closed the projection. Then, with a look of concern directed at Cam, she cloaked and silenced herself once more and teleported to the bedroom of Frank and Wendy Mitchell.

They were, as Cam's watch alarm had indicated, sound asleep. Didi knelt beside the bed where Frank lay and lightly touched the arm that was outside of the covers. Closing her eyes, she searched the inner workings of his body, looking for anything that might be contributing to his fatigue other than the natural consequences of aging and so many years of living with prosthetic legs.

With tenderness and compassion, she healed joints that were inflamed with arthritis and bursitis; unclogged arteries in which plaque was forming that might eventually lead to heart attack or stroke; and eased the pain and discomfort caused by his prosthetics, commanding that they never again cause him any pain, but would, instead, fit comfortably and operate at full efficiency for the remainder of his days.

Continuing to search, she came across a nasty-looking patch of blackness somewhere in Frank's abdominal region. She knew immediately and instinctively what it was: cancer. Tears came to her eyes and she sent the news to Cam telepathically. _"It's cancer,"_ she told him, _"somewhere in his abdominal region. I'm going to find out if God will let me heal him or not."_

After breaking contact with Cam, she began to pray. _"May I?"_ she queried. _"May I heal him?"_

"_Yes,"_ came the reply, _"but the Chak-tuk Power will be taken from you immediately afterward."_

"_But why? Why can't it wait until after the wedding?"_

"_You know why."_

Didi sighed and nodded. _"Yes, I guess I do."_ Tears came to her eyes as she thought about it, and she wept softly.

Every time she had made a vow to relinquish the Power after doing _"just_ _one more thing"_ with it, she had come up with something else—another reason to keep it just a little while longer. Would tomorrow be any different? Once the wedding was over and the clones had all returned to their own places in space and time, wouldn't she find another excuse to keep it? _Yes, she would._ She had to admit it. Having the ability to heal people; to transmute objects; to teleport freely to wherever and whenever she chose to go; to talk to Daniel telepathically . . . all of those things had become such an integral part of her life that she was reluctant to give them up, in spite of her protestations that she wanted to go back to being a regular, ordinary girl.

"_I'm sorry,"_ she told the Lord. _"I never intended—"_

"_Heal him, Didina; then return home and sleep peacefully through the night. As always, the lives of you and those you love are in My hands."_

"_All right,"_ Didi agreed, nodding. She was about to begin the healing process when a thought occurred to her. She withdrew her hands, said another silent prayer, got the answer she wanted, and teleported to another location. She got up off her knees and backed away from the bed. Before using and then losing the Power, she needed to contact Daniel one last time. She only hoped he was still awake. . . .

When her final telepathic conversation with Daniel was over, Didi returned to Frank Mitchell's side and healed him of his cancer. She commanded that the healing take place gradually, over the next twelve hours, so that by the time he was to dress for the wedding, he would be feeling fit as a fiddle.

When she was finished, she felt the Power drain away. Despite that fact, she smiled softly, kissed her father-in-law on the cheek and slipped out the door, walking down the hall to Cam's room. When she entered, he was pacing the floor nervously.

"What the—?" he said the moment she walked in. "Why didn't you teleport?"

Didi shook her head and replied quietly, "I couldn't. The Power's gone."

"What? Already?" Cam's outburst sounded like a gunshot to Didi in the silence of the house. She hushed him then and he asked more quietly, "What's going on, Dee? Why is the Power gone? You weren't going to relinquish it 'til after the wedding tomorrow. Did you misuse it by healing my dad?"

Didi shook her head and said, "No, I had permission to heal him."

"Then why—?"

"It was time, Cam. If I'd kept it until after the wedding tomorrow, I would've found another excuse to keep it a while longer; the Lord knew that. He didn't even have to _tell_ me. It only took a moment for me to realize how egotistical I'd become. Even though I've continued saying my prayers every morning and every night, I haven't prayed for the overall safety and well-being of my family and friends for weeks. I've prayed that they wouldn't _get killed_, yes; but that's about _all_ I've done in the way of entrusting their lives to the Lord. Since I knew I could heal anyone of any illness or non-fatal injury, I wasn't all that concerned for their safety, but I _should've_ been. I shouldn't've taken the Power for granted that way. I shouldn't've let it go to my head, but I did. So the Lord let me heal your father and then took the Power from me—no more excuses. Now I have to start relying on Him again—which is as it should be."

"Oh, Dee . . . ."

"I have no regrets, Cam. I'm at peace with what happened. I did what I was permitted to do and then let it go."

Cam nodded his understanding. He then asked, "And what about the whole freezing-time-at-the- wedding-while-we're-kissing scenario you mentioned earlier?"

"Before I healed your dad—since I knew I'd lose the Power immediately afterward—I contacted Daniel one last time and asked him if_ he'd_ be willing to freeze time when the appropriate moment arrives. When I spoke to him about it _before_ I went to your parents' room, he was worried about the repercussions of freezing time and was planning to ask Teal'c whether there'd been any nasty side effects after I stopped time in _his_ new universe when we were trying to destroy Apophus's ship. When I contacted Daniel again, he hadn't yet had a chance to get in touch with Teal'c, so he wasn't willing to make any promises."

"But, if Teal'c says there were no problems, Jackson _will_ freeze time for us," Cam inferred.

"Yes. I figured it'd be the easiest thing to get away with. After we've said goodbye to the others and given them all hugs, Daniel will use the Power to make certain we're in the same exact positions we were in before he froze time, and we can get back into the kiss before he unfreezes it and teleports them all out. No one else at the wedding will even be aware that anything happened."

"You hope. If our mothers are watching with eagle-eyed interest—which they probably will be—they'll notice if even one hair is out of place on either of us."

"Maybe, but it's a chance I'm willing to take. Anyway, what if somebody _does_ notice a slight . . . _skip?_—a moment that's not quite seamless in its passing. They won't know what it is and probably won't ask if anyone else noticed it, too. They'll probably think they're seeing things . . . and _nobody_ wants to admit to _that_ possibility."

"True," Cam admitted. "So . . . shall I get dressed and drive you home?"

Didi nodded. "I guess you'd better. I can't teleport back, and I don't think it'd be a good thing for your parents to find me here in the morning."

"It's already morning," Cam pointed out as he slid into a pair of jeans. "It's nearly one a.m." He yawned and then slipped his feet into a pair of canvas deck shoes. "I hope I can get to Topeka and back without falling asleep at the wheel."

"You'll be fine," Didi said with a soft smile.

Cam returned the smile and handed Didi his fleece-lined slippers. "Here," he said, "put these on. They're a bit big for you, but . . . it's better than running around outside in nothing but your bed socks." He grabbed his wallet from the nightstand, slid it into his pocket and said, "C'mon. Let's go. The keys to Mom's car are in her handbag, and she keeps it in the kitchen next to the fridge."

As they walked down the stairs, Didi said, "Despite how tired I am, I probably won't get a wink of sleep. I have too much on my mind right now."

"I understand. But you should still try to get some rest," said Cam. "We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"I know," Didi replied, yawning again, "and the Lord did tell me to return home and sleep peacefully through the night, so . . . maybe He'll help me with that."

"I hope so," said Cam. After taking the car keys from his mother's purse, he grabbed a couple of jackets from the coat rack, handing one to Didi. "It's cold out there; I don't want you to freeze."

As Cam drove to Topeka, he said, "I'm proud of you, Dee. It took a lot of courage to admit that you've been deceiving yourself all this time about your willingness to relinquish the Power. But I don't think any less of you because of it. Having that Power can be a heady thing. When _I _had it, I was just as reluctant as _you_ were to give it up. I liked all the things I could do with it—especially helping you. But, yeah . . . It's easy to lose sight of what's really important and to get caught up in using it for things that _seem_ important at the time but which are, really, of little consequence in the grand scheme of things.

"It's not hard to understand how the Chak-tuk elders became corrupt. _Anyone_ who has that kind of Power can become corrupted by it if they're not careful. Rationalization is the first sign of trouble. I'm glad you saw the light, Dee, before it was too late."

"I just had to realize that the Power was a means to an end . . . well, several ends . . . but that's _all_ it was. The final end was the curing of your Dad's cancer. I have no regrets and I never will."

"And that's another reason why I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, love," Didi said softly. She then told him all that she had done for his father—including the twelve-hour gradual-healing parameter she had put in place to cure his cancer. Cam was pleased. "I think you'll see a marked difference in him when morning comes," she told him.

The couple was silent for the remainder of the drive and arrived at the outskirts of Topeka a few minutes later. When they reached the Steadman house, Cam parked the car and walked Didi to the door. He then asked, "How're you going to get inside?"

"Dad's always kept a spare key on the windowsill at the side of the house, just in case any of us were out late and forgot to take our key with us," Didi said through chattering teeth.

Cam nodded. "I'll go get it for you. Stay put."

"Just hurry, would you?" Didi requested. She was shivering in her lightweight pajamas, despite the slippers and the jacket Cam had loaned her.

Cam disappeared around the corner of the house and reappeared half a minute later with a key in his fingers. "Here it is," he said. He then stuck it into the doorknob and turned it; the lock clicked open. "I'll put the key back after you get inside and relock the door."

"Thanks, Cam."

"If I can find an open gas station, I'm gonna put in a gallon to replace what I've used tonight."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Dee. What you did more than makes up for the cost of gasoline, losing a couple hours of sleep and freezing half to death while standing here on your parents' porch in the middle of the night." He had a sardonic smile on his handsome face.

"Why are you always so good to me—even when I put you out?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I love you, Didi Steadman. Now please . . . try to get some sleep. I want you wide awake for the wedding." His smiled softened and he added, "And for the wedding _night_."

Didi smiled back at him. "I love you, too, Cameron Mitchell, and I can hardly wait to start sharing a bed with you—" she moved in closer and whispered, "—again." Then she took a playful nip at his earlobe, after which their lips blended in a warm, passionate kiss. "Good night, my love," she said as she quietly turned the doorknob. "I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night, Dee." As she closed the door, he went around to the side of the house, returned the key to its place on the windowsill, and then headed down the sidewalk to his mother's car.


	42. Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42: THE WEDDING & BEYOND

Fortunately for Cam and Didi, their parents—suspecting that the pair had been too anxious to fall asleep easily the night before—allowed the tired bride and groom the luxury of sleeping in for a couple of hours. The pre-wedding breakfast, therefore, was held at eleven o'clock in the morning at one of the finest restaurants in Topeka. The Steadmans, who were footing the bill, had reserved a private table in an area separate from the rest of the diners.

Everyone dressed in casual wear, and the party of six met a few minutes before eleven in the restaurant parking lot. Didi's handiwork was evident in the color of Frank's face, the light in his eyes and the smile on his face. He even walked with greater ease than he had for many years.

The parents ate heartily, while Cam and Didi ate light—just enough to stop their stomachs from growling. They both had too many butterflies to take in a big meal, even though everything their parents ate looked positively delicious.

After breakfast, the men went to the Steadman house and watched football while the ladies picked up Theresa and Ashley and went to a beauty parlor to get their hair done. All five of them had either bathed or showered on Friday night or that very morning so that the steam would not ruin their coiffures. Didi had confessed to Cam over breakfast that she hated getting her hair done, which was one of the main reasons that she wore it long and straight.

After all five of the ladies had been taken care of, Thé and Ashley were returned to their respective homes to fetch their husbands and children, while Melinda, Wendy and Didi went to the Steadmans' to get their husbands and the groom. Didi remained in the car until the Mitchells had gone. Her mother insisted that Cam not see her at all until she was walked down the aisle. Both Cam and Didi were amused and bemused by the situation, since Cam had not only _seen_ Didi in her gown, he had actually watched her _create _it. They were both equally glad that Melinda was not aware of those facts.

Before leaving for the chapel in Auburn, Didi dressed in a simple, light-blue shift and low-heeled pumps. She had her gown (still in its protective plastic cover) draped over her arm. Melinda dressed for the wedding prior to leaving the house. She carried a small duffel bag which contained a full-length slip, ivory-hued high heels and a pair of pantyhose for Didi to wear with the wedding gown.

It was a little past one-thirty when they arrived at the church house in Auburn, and the Steadmans were directed to their respective dressing rooms by the minister's wife.

As Cam changed into his formal dress uniform and Greg and Frank put on their tuxes (Jeff and Mike having changed into theirs prior to leaving home with their wives and children), Cam received a few words of wisdom in regard to marriage from the other four men. When they were finished, Cam gave the rings to Mike to hold until the appropriate time during the ceremony.

Boutonnières were offered, and Mike, being the Best Man, went and got one for each of the men. As Mike inserted Cam's into the appropriate buttonhole, he said, "Dee's gonna flip when she sees you in this outfit, Cam. You look fantastic. Almost makes me wish _I'd_ gone into the military."

Meanwhile, Melinda, Ashley and Thé were helping Didi to change out of her shift and into her wedding gown. Wendy took the pale blue shift and placed it inside the plastic bag out of which the wedding gown had come; while the short slip, pantyhose, and low-heeled pumps she had been wearing went into Melinda's duffel bag. All of the wedding party members planned to change out of their formal attire after the ceremony so that they would stay clean during lunch and would be fit to be photographed prior to the reception.

It was nearing two o'clock by the time Didi was fully dressed and her veil was properly attached to her upswept hair. "Oh, Dina!" said Melinda tearfully, "you look as beautiful as you did the first time!"

Theresa shook her head. "No, Mom, she doesn't. She looks _more_ beautiful."

Ashley agreed. "The maturity in her eyes and in her features enhances her beauty."

"I don't believe I've seen a more beautiful bride in all my days," said Wendy. There were tears in her eyes as she kissed Didi on the cheek. "I am so proud to be getting you as a daughter-in-law."

A knock sounded at the door. They heard Greg's voice say, "Hey! Are you ladies ready yet? It's about time to start!"

Melinda opened the door and the five women exited the room. Ashley entered the chapel first, with Wendy and Melinda close on her heels.

The right side of the chapel was reserved for the bride's family, where were found Melinda's parents, Greg's widowed mother, Jeff, and all of the Steadman grandchildren. Ashley sat down beside her own three kids, while Jeff was keeping Geej and Maria in line. Melinda then sat down beside her mother.

Wendy took her seat on the left side of the chapel, which was reserved for the groom's family. Seated there with Frank was Wendy's father. Frank's parents and Wendy's mother had all passed away some years before. It was at times like this that they realized how big a hole those losses had left in their lives and in their family. All three of the Mitchells wished that Cam's younger brother could be there, but some things, they realized, were not possible. Still, Wendy mused, he was probably with them in spirit.

Suddenly, the organ fanfare began. Cam and Mike—already in position—turned and looked up the aisle, watching for Didi. Everyone on the benches rose to their feet, and Theresa entered the chapel, carrying a bouquet. She took her place next to where Didi would be standing, just as Didi and her father entered, arm in arm. The look on Greg's face spoke volumes: a mixture of both pride and sadness—a sadness born of how much he missed her, now that she was living in Colorado Springs.

When Cam saw Didi, he almost gasped. "Man, she's beautiful!" he breathed.

Mike smiled. "Yes, she is . . . but you already _knew_ that. But that gown? Yeah. It really shows her off, doesn't it?" Like his mother, Mike had no way of knowing that Cam had already seen Didi in the gown—that he'd actually been there when she created it. But the make-up she was wearing—along with the exquisite veil that was attached to her new hairdo—enhanced her beauty all the more. Mike was now saying, "Seeing her like this makes me wonder all over again how Tad could've left her the way he did."

Cam's attention was drawn away from Mike's comment about Tad as he spotted the other clones of SG-1 seated on both sides of the chapel. Daniel and Sam sat on the bride's side; Teal'c and Vala on the groom's. He wasn't surprised that Daniel would choose to sit on Didi's side, which would naturally prevent Vala from doing so. And Didi had done a great deal to help Sam get situated in her new life, while Cam had taken the lead in getting Teal'c to where he wanted to be. So, all in all, it did make some kind of sense that they each chose to sit where they did.

Cam's attention was again redirected as Greg left his daughter at the altar and took a seat next to his wife. Before the minister said anything, Didi gazed into Cam's eyes and said quietly, "You look incredible! I never imagined . . ."

The minister cleared his throat and the couple turned to look at him. He announced to the guests present that, prior to the official ceremony, Cam and Didi wished to express their love and commitment to one another in their own words. He then instructed Cam to go first.

"I've been in love with you, Dee, since the first time I looked into your eyes. I saw in those beautiful blue orbs everything I'd ever hoped to find in the heart and soul of a woman I could someday call my wife. I knew even then that I wanted and needed you in my life—forever. We haven't known each other all that long, but the time that we've spent together has been priceless and precious. I've treasured every moment.

"If I could change anything at all about our relationship, I'd change only one thing: I'd arrange for us to meet sooner than we did, so that we could've had more time together. But God has given us this time and this life to spend together as husband and wife—a blessing and gift I will never take for granted. I love you with all my heart and soul, Didi—without doubt and without reservation. You are and always will be the love of my life."

"Cam," said Didi, "since the first moment _I_ gazed into _your _eyes, I've known that I could depend on and believe in you. Though our time together has been brief, it's been both challenging and fulfilling. We have held fast to one another in times of difficulty and rejoiced in each other's accomplishments.

"Time and the machinations of a cruel universe have been conquered by our love for one another. We have been able to overcome obstacles that often seemed insurmountable. No one but God knows _everything_ that we've endured as a couple, and no one ever will. That alone has formed an unshakable and unbreakable bond between us _and_ God that will last forever. I love you with all my being, and I give myself to you willingly and gladly—to be your wife, your lover, your lifelong companion, and the mother of your children. You are and always will be the love of my life."

The minister smiled as he then began the official ceremony. As the vows were spoken, the rings were placed on their fingers, followed by the beginnings of a warm kiss; then, mid-kiss, time stood still.

"All right, you two," said Daniel as he and the other clones made their way up the aisle, "you can finish the kissing later. We're here to say congratulations and . . . goodbye."

"Those were beautiful vows, guys," said Sam. "I'd like to do something like that, too, but . . . well, you know Jack: he wouldn't know what to say, and I'm not about to do it all by myself."

"My Daniel and I did," said Vala, smiling brightly. "It was beautiful! I wish you all could've been there, but then . . . it was a few years ago. We have two children now, by the way: a boy and a girl, and we named them after Daniel's parents."

"You did?" Daniel queried. "Really?" He looked truly moved by the thought.

"Yes, we did. I had no objections; there's certainly no one in _my_ life I would've preferred to have named them after . . . well, except perhaps my mother. If we ever have another girl, I may do that." She looked fondly at Cam's parents, sitting on the front pew. "They really are exactly like your own parents, aren't they?" she asked Cam.

"Yeah, they are," Cam replied, "—exactly like them."

"Do they like Didina?"

"Of course they do! Why wouldn't they?"

"Especially after having met you," said Daniel to Vala.

"And how are you, big guy?" Cam asked Teal'c quickly before the situation could escalate.

"I am well, Colonel Mitchell. I am once again taking tretonin; my son and daughter-in-law are expecting their first child; and Master Bra'tac has become leader of the Jaffa people. I am on good terms with all of the members of SG-1 in my universe and have attended a wedding or two as well. It is good to see that you and Didina Steadman have decided to remain a couple. I had worried that things might not work out as well as you had hoped."

"It hasn't been easy," said Didi, "but we've managed. We had to go back in time to September fourteenth to do it, but . . . it all worked out."

"And here you are, married again—legally this time," said Vala. "And you even managed to persuade your parents that you were ready to get married after only a few weeks! How did that work?"

"I think God had a little something to do with that," said Cam. "My parents were fine with us getting married. They didn't care how, where or when. They could tell that Didi and I were in love and told us to go for it. Didi's dad was pretty much okay with it, too. But Didi's mom . . . well, she had to pray about it and get an answer from God before she'd sanction it and not worry about the fact that Didi and I have only known each other for (ostensibly) a little more than six weeks."

"Yeah," said Daniel. "Before we came here, I told the gang all about Didi's cover story of going apartment hunting in Colorado Springs the weekend she was supposedly abducted. It's unbelievable that your parents have accepted your getting married so soon. It really is a miracle."

"As much as I hate to be the party pooper, I think we'd better get back," said Sam. "It's probably not a good idea to leave time frozen for too long."

Didi sighed and began to hug each of them in turn, saying as she did so, "It's so wonderful to see you all again. I wish this didn't have to be goodbye. I wish we could get together every five years or so for a kind of . . . _group reunion_ and catch up with each other's lives." She had finished hugging all four and was now looking at them as a unit. "We miss you. Cam has a new SG-1 now; he handpicked each member and they were sanctioned by both General Landry and General O'Neill. (I met him a few weeks ago, by the way.) Your duplicates on this world have all gone their separate ways. We see them from time to time, but they're not you. They may be a lot like your originals, but you guys are unique, just as Cam and I are. We share a heritage, being created as we were by aliens in a laboratory. That makes us, in a way, family. Families should have reunions."

"Tell you what, Didi," said Daniel, "we _will_ have a reunion every five years. Since I'm not planning to relinquish the Power, I can work out the details, make all the arrangements and then make it happen. When I get the feeling no one's interested in attending anymore, we'll just call it quits and consider that we've all gotten on with our lives and we no longer feel the need to touch base with each other."

Didi shook her head. "No, Daniel. As wonderful as it sounds, I think it would be too heartbreaking to plan it and then find out that nobody _wants_ to come. I'd rather not know when that happens. Let's just say goodbye now, wish each other Godspeed and good fortune and be done with it. I'll miss you, but we chose new lives for ourselves for a reason, and we need to live those lives. Thank you, all of you, for coming today. It means a lot to me—to both of us. I love you all and I always will. You are my friends and a second family. Take care of yourselves and your new friends and family with the same dedication that your originals have always had."

"What she said," Cam said. "Didi's always eloquent."

"Yes, she is," Daniel agreed. He then looked at the group. "Ready to go back, guys?" They all nodded in affirmation. "All right, then." Daniel closed his eyes and used the Power to set Cam and Didi in the exact same spots and positions they were in before he froze time. He then said, "G'bye, Mitchell, Didi. Take care—_and start kissing again_." The couple did as they were told, and then, just before the clones disappeared, Didi heard inside her head, _"I'm going to miss talking to you, Didi. Goodbye and . . . God bless."_

At the exact same moment that the clones vanished, time was restored. Cam and Didi finished their kiss. If anyone noticed the miniscule blip in the action, they didn't give any indication of it. Cam and Didi's real concern was whether anyone would comment on the things Didi had said about their relationship. She had been bold in her reference to "time and the machinations of a cruel universe."

Fortunately, there wasn't time for anyone to question them. Lunch was scheduled for three-thirty sharp and it was already ten minutes past the hour. The wedding party members retired to their respective dressing rooms to change out of their finery.

"Lunch" was held at the best eating establishment in Auburn and paid for by the Mitchells. Everyone who attended the wedding was invited. Frank had made reservations for the entire group. This time, Cam and Didi both ate more than they had at breakfast. Now that they were finally married and had seen, conversed with, and said their goodbyes to the other clones, they could relax and enjoy the meal.

Following lunch the party went immediately to the reception center in Topeka. The photographer Melinda had hired would be arriving promptly at six o'clock. The wedding party members had to change back into their formal clothes before then.

Once he arrived, the photographer spent forty-five minutes taking digital photos of the wedding party, many of them solely of Cam and Didi. After he had finished his work, the bride and groom, the parents, the Best Man and the Matron of Honor got into line to begin receiving their guests.

General Landry turned up, along with his daughter, Dr. Lam; and Sam came on General O'Neill's arm. Vala, surprisingly enough, turned up with both Daniel and Teal'c—one on each arm. All the members of Cam's new team made an appearance, as did several other people from the SGC of whom Cam was particularly fond. Some of them Didi had previously met; others she had not. Col. Ellis was among those whom she was most pleased to see. He had treated her well while she was aboard the _Apollo_, and she would always be grateful.

Nearly everyone Cam had grown up with came to wish him well, and they were all pleased to see that he had finally found someone he could love and cherish for the rest of his life.

Didi's eligible friends flirted with Cam's buddies who were also available. The couple found the situation quite amusing. Amy Vandenberg was notably absent. Cam had said he was not going to invite her to the wedding and, apparently, Wendy had felt the same way.

When eight o'clock rolled around, the announcement was made—by Mike—that the newlyweds would declare their self-written declarations of love and commitment to one another in sight and hearing of the entire company.

Remaining where they were standing, Cam and Didi turned to face one another. Cam took hold of both of Didi's hands, and they repeated the same things they had said prior to their wedding ceremony . . . although _this_ time Didi left out the phrases that might have raised questions in the minds of those at the _wedding_ who had heard them. She was afraid that repeating those parts here and now might draw a little _too _much attention to them and start people wondering what in the world she meant. It was enough that _Cam_ knew and understood, since she had written the original words especially for him.

When they had finished repeating their declarations, they kissed again—fervently—and received a round of applause and a few joyous whoops of celebration from some of the rowdier guests.

Champagne was poured; a toast was offered by the Best Man; the cake was cut; and Cam and Didi—unlike most newlyweds—defied the tradition of shoving it into each other's faces. They smiled softly at one another, took a bite from each other's cake slice, and then finished off what they held in their respective hands, kissing each other afterward with frosting-covered lips. They laughed, were given napkins, and cleaned themselves—and each other—as best they could.

Afterward, one of Cam's rowdier friends called out, "When's this party gonna start? I'm wearing my dancin' shoes!"

Mike, who had taken his place on the podium with his band, said, "You can make use of those shoes soon, my friend. But first . . . my sister, Didi, wrote a song for Cam just a few days after they met. She'd like to share it now with all of you."

With shaking knees, Didi squeezed Cam's hand and he said reassuringly, "You'll be fine, hun."

She nodded and said, "I know, because I'm going to be singing directly to you."

Mike's band played the introduction he had written for "Didi's Declaration," and then Didi began to sing with the voice of an angel—better than Cam or anyone else had ever heard. As she neared the end of the song, Cam approached her, gazed into her eyes and took her into his arms. After she sang the final "kiss me," he did just that. Once again there was a round of applause, accompanied by a rousing cheer.

"Those two really know how to play to a crowd," Gen. Landry said to Gen. O'Neill.

"They certainly do. Cute couple, though, aren't they?" Jack commented.

"I've seen few couples more likely than those two are to make it work."

"He's lucky," said Jack, "that she knows about the you-know-what. He can talk about it with her a little from time to time."

"That he can," Gen. Landry agreed.

Dancing took place for the next forty-five minutes, after which came the tossing of the bouquet. Sam caught it—and she wasn't even trying. She looked at Gen. O'Neill with an ironic smile on her face.

When all the guests had gone—including the grandparents—Cam and Didi said their goodbyes to their parents and to Didi's siblings and their families. They were then driven in a chauffeured limousine to one of the best hotels in Topeka, where Greg and Melinda had booked a hot tub suite for them.

When they had settled into the suite, Didi got into her luggage and took out a wrapped gift that she had bought for Cam and gave it to him. He reciprocated. "Shall we open them together?" he asked.

"Okay," said Didi, nodding.

When both gifts were opened, they looked at each other and laughed. "Oh, this is just choice!" said Cam. "It couldn't be more perfect! Where and when did you buy this?"

"This" was a pewter figurine, about seven inches high, of a knight in full plate armor, complete with long sword and kite shield.

"I bought it at a specialty store during the week after you left Kansas and returned to Colorado Springs. I couldn't resist."

She went on to explain that, having heard so much about SG-1's exploits in what she had come to call "The Merlin Chronicles," she had once taken the time—at the decommissioned SGC, while Cam was in the shower—to view specific parts of the adventure. She had been impressed by her husband's prowess with a sword. He had been thrashed badly, but—in Didi's estimation—it was _not_ due to lack of skill. _How could he possibly defeat something that was programmed _**not **_to take damage?_ He'd done his best and had—at the very least—bought some time for his teammates. This pewter figurine was Didi's homage to him—her own personal knight in shining armor.

Cam smiled softly, kissed her on the cheek, and said, "Thanks, hun. It means a lot."

Cam's gift to Didi was a crystalline dragon—a beautiful and delicate creation.

"Don't tell me," she said, "—you bought it the same day that you bought the earrings, the teddy, the necklace and the engagement ring."

"Yep," Cam replied.

"No wonder you were so late getting to my place for dinner!"

"Yeah, I was a busy little bee that night. I hadn't intended to buy so much stuff, but . . . well, when it comes to you, I kinda get carried away."

Didi smiled and kissed his cheek. Then she said, "I think we should put them on the coffee table in your . . . in _our_ apartment, facing each other in such a way that the knight looks like he's fighting the dragon. Together they'll make a great conversation piece."

Cam nodded. "No doubt," he said. Then, "There could be some underlying meanings behind these, you know . . . what they represent to us individually."

Didi nodded. "I know. You're obviously the knight, and the sword and shield represent the tools you have at hand to accomplish whatever it is you need to do."

"And the dragon is a problem that needs to be solved . . . a monster that needs to be vanquished—whether literally or figuratively speaking."

"If all our problems are as fragile as this dragon," said Didi, "we won't have any trouble conquering them."

They set the figurines on the coffee table in front of them and gazed into each other's eyes. Cam then caressed Didi's cheek and said, "I do love you, Mrs. Mitchell, and I always will."

"Take me to Paradise, my love," said Didi. "I've missed the taste of ambrosia."

Cam smiled, got to his feet, gathered his wife into his arms and carried her to the bed. It was time once again for a symphony. And it was long overdue. . . .

The happy couple spent the entirety of Sunday in their suite, in spite of having to pay for an extra night's stay. They ordered room service for both breakfast and lunch and spent some quality time in the hot tub together.

As they soaked, Didi asked, "You know what I wish I could've done before the Power was taken from me?"

"What, hun?"

"Spent some time alone with you, reviewing the highlights of our first ten days together."

"Yeah, it would've been kinda fun—especially watching what happened during those first few days on Planet Max."

"The shirt-and-pillow fight . . ."

"The first time we had a meal alone together . . ."

"Watching you shave . . ."

"Watching you work magic with food . . ."

"Listening to all your great stories about SG-1 . . ."

"Listening to you sing . . ."

"The first time you kissed me . . ."

"The first time you told me you loved me . . ."

Didi sighed. "Those first few days _were_ special."

"That they were, Dee; that they were."

They checked out of the hotel at six and took a cab to the airport. Their flight left a little after eight-thirty and arrived in Colorado Springs while it was still fairly early.

After he had unlocked the door to his apartment and taken their luggage inside, Didi was filled with joy as Cam picked her up in his arms and carried her over the threshold. "Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Mitchell," he said with a light of love in his eyes and a soft smile on his face.

"This is it," she said. "We really are going to live together from now on." She gazed at her husband, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Yeah, we are. I love you, Dee." He kissed her warmly, set her on her feet and said, "We should go house hunting every night after work if we're going to get moved by the middle of December."

Didi agreed. "That's only about six weeks away. I hope we find something nice fairly quickly."

"We will," Cam replied as he closed the door. "For now, though, we should start planning our honeymoon. Where would you like to go?"

Didi smiled. "I know you wanted to go someplace tropical, but, since it's the equivalent of May in the southern hemisphere right now, it'll probably be rainy even there. So, I'd kind of like to go to . . . Australia."

Cam's eyebrows went up in mild amusement. "Are you sure, Dee? It could rain there, too, you know."

"I know, but probably not as much or as often . . . and there are plenty of places to go that don't require being outside and getting wet."

"That's true. . . . Australia it is, then."

And so it was. And, yes, it did rain . . . but not enough to keep them from enjoying themselves.

In mid December they moved into a three-bedroom house with a full basement that was located only a few miles from Cheyenne Mountain. It meant that Didi would have a bit of commute, but she knew her way around pretty well by now, and since Cam had to be to work earlier in the morning than she did, it seemed the best thing to do. They managed to get settled in before heading home to Kansas for the holidays.

By the time Christmas rolled around, Didi was pregnant. The Steadmans were, of course, astonished . . . particularly since Cam had never taken Didi to one of those "specialists" Didi had mentioned to her father back in September. Her parents believed that it was nothing short of a miracle. Said Didi, "Our entire relationship has been a miracle. Cam and I were meant to be together. God has made everything possible—even my pregnancy."

Seven and a half months later Didi gave birth to her first child: a boy. They named him . . . Cory.


End file.
